Quite a List
by Gmariam
Summary: When Ianto propositioned his boss with a stopwatch, he was really just trying to distract Jack from the second death of one of their own. Jack might have been expecting something else entirely, but he gladly accepted what was offered by the surprising proposal: friendship. Neither of them anticipated just how close that friendship would become before it changed completely.
1. 28:30

_28:30_

Jack sat in his office, fingers steepled before him as he pondered Ianto's words—though not the words he should have been pondering, the unsettling observation about a second glove. No, instead he was thinking about the man's initial comment during their brief exchange in the morgue over Suzie.

_"If you're interested, I've still got that stopwatch...lots of things you can do with a stopwatch."_

What the hell did _that_ mean?

He had been getting on well with Ianto recently, all things considered. Yes, it had been difficult moving past Ianto's betrayal with the Cyberman, but since the man's suspension and return to the Hub, their working relationship had slowly but surely started to settle into something resembling what it had been. Ianto was still distant and obviously grieving, and Jack could sense the man's deep sense of guilt, but he also saw a relief in Ianto that hadn't been there before. A release, perhaps, from the terrible burden of keeping his secret for so long.

Gradually Ianto had started returning Jack's quips with a witty banter of his own. Jack thought once in a while Ianto might have even returned his flirting, but he tried not to read anything into it, knowing that was certainly a slippery slope to contemplate, especially with an attractive coworker. Jack flirted innocently with most people; it was simply more fun when they returned it, not something to be concerned about.

The stopwatch, though…well, he wasn't concerned. Surprised, yes. Curious, certainly. Confused…a bit. He'd have to tread carefully, because frankly he did not want to damage the fragile relationship they'd rebuilt over the months since Lisa had been killed. Ianto Jones was a good man, and Jack didn't want to lose him now.

So when Ianto showed up in the office ten minutes later, Jack let him take the lead. Ianto appeared both nervous and confident at the same time, a fascinating combination of strong words but slightly uncertain body language that Jack suddenly found inexplicably charming. This man was full of secrets and surprises, and Jack had not worked with someone like that for a long time. It could be interesting.

"Ten minutes precisely," said Jack, lounging back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. "So what exactly did you have in mind for that stopwatch?"

Ianto offered a sly smile and motioned toward the chair in front of the desk. Jack nodded, and Ianto sat down, unbuttoning his jacket and loosening his tie a bit. Jack found it fascinating to watch, as the smallest break appeared in the unflappable exterior that was Ianto Jones. He tried not to stare, so instead jumped up and offered a drink.

"Thank you, sir," Ianto replied as Jack handed him a tumbler of whiskey. He took a slow sip, but did not say anything more.

Jack returned to his seat and studied the young man before him. "So this list…?" he offered, more and more curious. "What's on it?"

"Well, I certainly don't want to be timing dead people coming back to life anymore," Ianto replied, looking Jack in the eye. Jack nodded slowly, uncertain of where Ianto was going with it now.

"Me neither," he agreed. He hoped to hell Ianto was wrong about gloves coming in pairs; he couldn't imagine any reason they would ever need a second one, knowing what the first had done to two of their own people.

"To Suzie," Ianto offered, raising his glass, and Jack raised his as well, thinking not of the dark, twisted woman he had shot on the pier, but instead of the bright, vibrant woman he had recruited to Torchwood years ago.

"Are you all right, sir?" asked Ianto, setting down his glass and leaning forward to get Jack's attention. Jack glanced up, unaware he had been gazing off, and nodded.

"Call me Jack," he said, though he'd been reminding Ianto for weeks to use his first name more often, more casually. The formality of 'sir' created a distance Jack didn't want between them now, not if he was going to make sure he kept a better eye on his people. "This isn't on the clock, you know. And yes, I'm fine. I could use certainly use a distraction, though."

Ianto nodded as he reached into his jacket pocket. "I thought you might." Jack had no idea what he might be pulling out, but he did not expect a pack of playing cards. "Fancy a game of poker, then?"

"Cards?" Jack repeated. "You want to play cards?" Ianto nodded casually in reply as he started to shuffle the deck. "What does that have to do with your stopwatch?"

Ianto shrugged, but there was a deliberate set to his shoulders that was trying to convey innocence and failing. "We'll time how long it takes."

"How long what takes?" asked Jack, narrowing his eyes but grinning as all sorts of ideas began to come to mind.

"How long it takes you to lose." Ianto actually offered a rare grin in return.

Oh, he was bold. They'd just lost a member of their team for the second time and here was Ianto Jones trying to distract him with gambling. Though it seemed slightly wrong, Jack leaned forward with interest. "Lose what?" he asked. "Clothing?"

Ianto ignored the second question and answered the first. "50 quid?" he proposed.

"Deal." Jack was fascinated once more. It was not what he had expected at all, but then, he had tried not to form any expectations from Ianto's strange proposition in the morgue. Well, no, that wasn't true: he had naturally assumed it would involve something a bit more intimate than cards, but then again, he had no reason to assume anything like that, aside from Ianto returning the occasional bit of flirting. Yet cards didn't seem much in character either, until Jack realized just how many things he probably didn't know about Ianto Jones.

Glancing up into Ianto's face, blue eyes steady, lips curling into the faintest smile, it suddenly occurred to Jack that he may have met his match in secrets and games.

Which was why he was not that surprised when Ianto cleaned him out in twenty-eight minutes and thirty seconds.

He was, however, slightly disappointed when Ianto set down his empty glass and stood to leave with his winnings. It had been a short, brutal game, but it had been…well, enjoyable at the same time. A welcome distraction, an unexpected connection over drinks and cards. Jack almost wished it had lasted longer; instead, he decided maybe they should try it again.

"Same time tomorrow?" Jack asked lightly as he walked with Ianto to the door.

Ianto cocked his head to the side as if thinking. He held up his winnings. "I'll spring for eggrolls, sir," he replied. "Good night, Jack."

"Good night, Ianto."

Jack laughed to himself as Ianto left the Hub for the night. He was already looking forward to it, although the next time they would try something from his list.

* * *

Author's Note:

My first TW story led up to the stopwatch, but this one starts there. Completely different premise, though—but another look at how it might have started. I am rather fascinated by that single moment and how it could be interpreted. And at the moment, I am enjoying the challenge of those comments not implying anything smutty. Wish me luck with that. ;)


	2. 40:32

_40:32_

Ianto paid the delivery girl with a smile and watched her leave before locking up the tourist office and shutting everything down. He took the bag of egg rolls down to the Hub, not entirely sure what he was doing, but for once in his life just going with it. He said he'd bring egg rolls, so he had egg rolls. He wasn't sure what Jack would read into it, wasn't sure what he _wanted_ Jack to read into it, if anything, but he pushed away his tendency to think too much and tried to relax. It was just Jack, just a simple game with his boss. A distraction from the heartbreaks and horrors of Torchwood.

Everyone had left, just as the night before, and Ianto made his way to Jack's office to find him already pouring two drinks. He turned with a bright smile and offered Ianto a glass; Ianto in turn offered the bag of egg rolls.

"Brilliant!" Jack exclaimed. "Perfect for a game of chess."

"Chess, sir?" asked Ianto, immediately earning himself a look of reprimand. "Sorry. I didn't know you played, Jack. I've never seen a chess set around."

"It's been put away for a very long time. Do you play?" asked Jack, heading toward the nearby table where he had set up a chess board, the elaborate pieces made from what looked like ivory, intricately carved in a variety of strange alien shapes. It was a beautiful set, old and well-worn but obviously taken care of. Ianto vaguely wondered where—or when—Jack had acquired it.

"A bit," he finally shrugged in reply. He actually took off his jacket this time; chess would require a lot more concentration than cards. He'd grown up watching his father play cards and had spent years perfecting his own poker face to hide behind the carefully constructed lies he'd lived for so long. Cards were easy. Chess…chess required strategy. Not just planning and organization, which Ianto had in spades, but tactics. Having seen Jack make tough decisions and brutal sacrifices for his job, Ianto suspected Jack knew more about strategy and tactics than just about anyone; he hoped no money was on the line.

"Do you need a refresher?" Jack asked. He set down his drink with the egg rolls, then removed his braces and let them hang down. Ianto raised an eyebrow; Jack saw and grinned again. "Could be a long game," he offered. "Or it could be a short one, and then I'll be ready for bed."

Ianto rolled up his sleeves and unbuttoned his waistcoat, determined to at least give Jack half a run at it, even if it had been years since he had played. He took a rather large sip of his drink—brandy this time, not as much his taste as the whiskey he kept Jack's cabinet stocked with—but anything would do at this point.

"No, I'll be fine," he finally replied, setting down his drink and studying the board with what he hoped was more assurance than he felt. He glanced up and gave Jack the most confident smile he could. "What's the stopwatch for then?"

Jack leaned forward. "How long it takes _you_ to lose," he said, his voice low. Ianto nodded; he was almost guaranteed to lose, given his relative inexperience at the game and the gut feeling he had that Jack was likely quite good. Still, he'd give it his best. It wasn't about the actual game of chess, anyway. Ianto knew perfectly well there was more going on than just chess; he just wasn't sure what it was he had started down in the morgue the night before. Once again, he decided to just go with it.

"Any money?" asked Ianto.

Jack shook his head. "I don't need to win it back to prove anything."

Ianto swallowed, but raised an eyebrow in defiance. "Good, because I already spent it."

Jack laughed and motioned at Ianto to make the first move. He tried to remember a good way to open, but was fairly certain he botched it from the start.

Which was why, forty minutes and thirty-two seconds later, Jack was able to crow "Checkmate!" and toss his hands up in boyish victory. The egg rolls remained untouched, though they had both poured a second glass that Ianto now raised in gracious defeat.

"You've obviously played quite a bit," he offered, only slightly disappointed to have lost. He had tried, but Jack's experience had won out. Jack knew when to move, when to wait, what to sacrifice to win. Just as cards played to Ianto's strengths, so this game played to Jack's.

"I used to. It's good exercise for the mind," Jack replied.

"No wonder my head hurts then," Ianto murmured. He finished his drink and stood to leave. "It was a good game. Thanks, Jack."

"I enjoyed it," Jack replied, and Ianto suspected Jack wasn't just referring to chess from the look on his face. Ianto nodded slowly as he rolled down his sleeves and pulled his jacket back on.

"Me too," he replied softly, but for some reason he couldn't meet Jack's eyes.

"Your turn tomorrow," Jack said, standing and following him to the door. Ianto turned and gave him a quizzical look.

"My turn?"

"Something from your list."

"Right. My list." He didn't actually have a list, but he wasn't going to let Jack know if Jack wanted to continue their odd little game of back and forth. Really, he had just been trying to distract him—both of them, maybe—from the loss of Suzie and the near loss of Gwen. He had not expected it to become a nightly thing. "I'll have to think of something good then."

Jack leaned a bit closer. "I've got plenty of ideas if you don't."

"Oh, I do," Ianto replied, refusing to back down. He met Jack's eyes and held them. "I do. Good night, Jack."

"Good night, Ianto."

He left the Hub, knowing full well what that last exchange had been, but not really caring. It had been almost…exciting. So what if he enjoyed flirting with Jack a bit. Jack was his boss, but Ianto knew there was more to it than that. Jack had given him a job when he'd been desperate, offered forgiveness when he'd betrayed that position, shown him tentative friendship and support as he'd worked through those awful weeks after Lisa's death. He wasn't sure what it was, the connection that seemed to have sprung up between them, but it was there and it was growing. Ianto enjoyed it, and he wasn't going to let it go, even if it meant a little bit of flirting.

No, he was going to come up with something for tomorrow night.

* * *

Author's Note:

Chapters will be short, more like drabbles. And again—relatively innocent, just so you know what to expect, muhahaha. I'm just trying something different and a bit lighter than my other two chaptered stories so bear with me. Well, it does get serious by the end, but still. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!


	3. 1:32

_1:32_

Ianto had thought maybe he'd try Jack at another game, something the other man might be a bit more familiar with so he wouldn't lose so spectacularly. Jack seemed interested when Ianto suggested a game of whist, once again proposing a wager of clothing (which, for some reason, Ianto actually thought about considering this time before shaking his head with a roll of his eyes). Unfortunately, one minute and thirty-two seconds after they had picked up their cards, the Rift monitor went off, and they spent the rest of the night hunting down a particularly clever yet vicious alien who'd fallen through a Rift storm and was terrorizing The Hayes.

In some strange way, it was almost as enjoyable as staying in, despite the deep scratch Ianto received from a pair of sharp claws that narrowly missed the collar of one of his favorite dress shirts. He hated to admit that he was slightly disappointed when they had to call in the others in for the cleanup and containment. He didn't go out on missions all that often, and he and Jack made a good team, it seemed.

At least when it came to chasing down aliens.

Still, there was always the following night, and even if they didn't finish their game of whist, Ianto was certainly interested in whatever Jack might come up with next, even if it did involve alien bugs.


	4. 0:00

_0:00_

Jack was tired, though not so exhausted that he was ready to crash before his game with Ianto. He suspected Ianto was ready to go home—it had been a long twenty-four hours, from hunting down the Vandosian to cleaning up the mess it had left behind to covering up the entire operation—yet Jack was hoping, for some reason, that maybe Ianto would stay a bit later. He was sorry they'd been interrupted the night before and didn't want their game to end so quickly.

Before everyone left for an early night, he called Ianto to his office.

"Yes, sir?"

The look on Ianto's face was so tired that Jack suddenly lost his nerve. He couldn't keep Ianto there just because he'd enjoyed spending the last few nights with him. The deep scratch on Ianto's neck was red and swollen, and it was obvious the man needed to go home and sleep, just like the rest of the team. So Jack shook his head with a smile.

"Never mind. You look exhausted. I was just checking to make sure you were heading home like the others."

Ianto cocked his head to the side, stifled a yawn, and tried for an apologetic smile. "If you need anything, I can stay," he offered, but then swallowed another yawn.

Jack actually laughed as he shuffled Ianto through the door. "I'd like to continue from where we left off last night, but I'm afraid I'd just end up timing how long it would take you to fall asleep in your cards."

"Probably not long," Ianto murmured.

Jack placed a hand on Ianto's shoulder, then reached up to brush gentle fingers along the scratch on the man's neck. "You sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine, Jack. Owen gave me some cream."

"You should cover it, you don't want it all over your pillow."

"Anything else, doctor?"

Jack laughed and took his hand away, stuffing it into his pocket. "Yes. Shall we continue tomorrow, then?"

"Tomorrow would be fine." Ianto yawned and started down the stairs, his hand straying idly to where Jack had brushed against the injury on his neck. "Assuming no more extraterrestrial insects come through and try to destroy St. David's."

"You never know," Jack replied, leaning on the railing as Ianto grabbed his coat and headed out the door. "Could be even better than ugly bugs next time.""

"I rather hope not. I happen to like the shirts at Marks and Spencer, and I think it ate half of them. Good night, Jack."

"Good night, Ianto."


	5. 3:30:00

_3:30:00_

"Is he still upset?"

"I wouldn't go up there if I was you, coffee king or not."

"Someone should talk to him."

"He'll bite your bloody head off."

Ianto glanced at Jack's office and sighed before he turned to Owen. "I'll be fine. You know how he gets with U.N.I.T. See you tomorrow."

"Good luck, teaboy," Owen muttered. "You're braver than the lot of us, sometimes."

Ianto smiled ruefully as Owen left out the cog door. He wasn't brave, just disappointed. It was likely that Jack was in too foul a mood to continue their game, thanks to the call from U.N.I.T. looking into their capture and cover up of the Vandosian incident two nights ago. Jack had never got along with them, but this call had gone particularly bad: they had heard him shouting all the way in the autopsy bay, and he'd stomped around growling at the team for the rest of the day before finally stalking off outside, probably to brood on a rooftop somewhere. He'd only returned a half hour earlier, and though Ianto was fairly sure Jack would prefer to be left alone, he did want to check on him before leaving. It was his job, after all.

Tapping tentatively on the doorframe to Jack's office, Ianto was not surprised to find the other man glowering over paperwork at his desk. He was surprised, however, when Jack looked up, saw him, immediately set it all aside, and smiled broadly.

"Ianto Jones, just the man I wanted to see!" he exclaimed, practically jumping from his chair. Ianto stepped into the room, confused.

"Yes, sir?"

Again, the reprimanding look. It was habit: Jack was his boss the vast majority of the time, so it was almost always 'sir'. It helped Ianto keep things straight in his head, but for some reason it seemed to bother Jack when he was overly formal in informal settings. Ianto would just have to learn which times were which.

Jack continued past him toward the table where they had played cards and chess, but there was nothing set up tonight. Instead, there were two tumblers and a bottle of very expensive scotch. Ianto raised an eyebrow.

"Your errand from earlier?"

"Couldn't resist after that phone call," Jack said. "I charged it to U.N.I.T. Care to join me?"

Ianto shrugged, wondering how Jack had managed that and if he could learn how to pass off a few Hub expenses on the blistering bureaucrats as well. "Can't pass up a bottle like that." In truth, he usually preferred whiskey to scotch, but it was quite a high-end bottle; he'd likely never try anything remotely as posh again. And perhaps they might continue their game.

"Do you have the stopwatch?" Jack asked with a coy grin, as if reading his mind. Ianto raised an eyebrow.

"Always at the ready," he said, pulling it from his pocket.

"You'll have to tell me why someday," Jack said, pouring them both a drink.

"It's a long story."

"We'll time it, then." Jack actually winked at him, and though Ianto briefly wondered if Jack had already opened the bottle and taken a shot, he quickly realized it was just Jack being Jack, and he shook his head with a smile.

"It's a dull story as well," he replied. "What were you actually planning on timing tonight, seeing as you've no game set up?"

Jack grinned. "We have two choices. How long we can bitch about U.N.I.T and their asinine ineptness, or how long it takes us to finish this bottle and forget they even exist."

Ianto glanced at the bottle, back to his glass, and raised an eyebrow. "Or maybe both." He started the watch, set it down, and took a deep sip of his drink; it was certainly the best scotch he'd ever had. "They are a pain in the arse, after all. And it's too good a scotch for just one glass."

Jack grinned and downed his drink in one long swallow, coughing as the liquor likely burned his throat, and then pouring himself another with a hearty laugh. "To U.N.I.T., may the lot of them trip and fall through a wormhole someday soon."

The ill-tempered mood from earlier in the day was quickly replaced by open laughter as the scotch led to a constant barrage of insults flung at U.N.I.T. and its pompous generals—comments that grew more and more ridiculous (and possibly bordering on treasonous and profane) as the hours passed.

Ianto wasn't sure how long it took them to finish the bottle, or if they ever did, but it wasn't pretty, even if it did involve quite a bit of hysterical laughter and one very inappropriate phone call. Eventually he set his glass down on the table and stumbled out with some sort of mumbled farewell, hoping he at least made it to the couch before he passed out. He heard a dull thud behind him and imagined Jack had collapsed at his desk.

Some game. It would be a hell of a morning.


	6. 20:00

_20:00_

Jack opened bleary eyes to find himself sleeping, of all places, at his desk. In his undershirt and trousers with his braces hanging down, no less. Glancing around in confusion, he found his shirt thrown over the couch, along with Ianto's suit jacket and tie. And on the table nearby were two tumblers, a not-quite-empty bottle of scotch, and a stopwatch.

With a stiff groan, Jack stood and ran a hand through his hair, for once glad his strange abilities left him with little to no hangover. He stretched muscles sore from sleeping hunched over his desk, then stopped as he wondered where Ianto was. He must be in much worse shape, given the state of the bottle staring back at him from the table.

Grabbing Ianto's jacket, tie, and watch, Jack headed out into the Hub, where he quickly found Ianto asleep—or passed out—on the lumpy sofa, knees up and a hand flung across his head. Apparently he heard Jack coming, because he stirred with a groan.

"Why did I let you talk me into bottle that again?" he asked, lips barely moving.

"Hey, the whole stopwatch thing was your idea." Jack couldn't help but grin down at Ianto.

"This was not on my list," Ianto replied. He sat up and Jack handed him his jacket and tie, along with a bottle of water, then joined him on the sofa.

"It wasn't actually on mine either, so we'll blame U.N.I.T." He let his head fall back. He may not have felt as bad as Ianto, but he wasn't going to rub it in, and he was still sore.

"U.N.I.T." Ianto sat bolt upright and then groaned. "Shit, did we call them last night?"

Jack turned and looked at him, trying to recall something about a very late night phone call…

"Jack, did we call General Brightman and say what I think we said?"

Jack burst into laughter as he started to remember. "My god, I think we did. Damn."

Ianto's head fell into his hands. "Then we should probably time how long it is until we're sacked." He glanced up and frowned. "Well, you've been here forever and you're in charge, but I'll be sacked for sure."

Jack patted him on the knee. "You won't be sacked. I'll smooth it over. I think I did most of the talking anyway." He remembered Ianto feeding him some good lines, though. He grinned and glanced at Ianto. "Want to time how long it takes to get cleaned up so we can get something to eat?"

Ianto opened one eye. "Eat? Jack, do you seriously think I want to eat right anything right now?"

"I'm hungry, so come keep me company."

"Wait a minute," Ianto struggled to sit up once more. "Why are you so cheerful? Don't you get hungover, or is that one of your superpowers as well?"

Jack laughed, although he felt somewhat nervous at the casual question with so much more behind it. "Superpower? What are you talking about?"

"You're different," Ianto said very pointedly, as if that explained everything.

"How so?" asked Jack, stretching it out playfully and wondering just how much Ianto thought he knew.

"Well, you obviously don't get hungover," Ianto muttered, falling back against the couch. "And that's bloody unfair."

"It is, it really is." Jack stood and offered Ianto his hand. Ianto took it with a groan, palming the stopwatch back into Jack's fingers.

"If I'm not back in twenty, you might want to send help."

Jack clicked the watch with a grin. "Twenty minutes and counting."

From the pace Ianto was moving as he headed toward the changing rooms, Jack had a feeling he was going to win this one.


	7. 216:00:00

_216:00:00_

Breakfast was bearable, though Ianto only managed coffee and toast and minimal conversation at best. It wasn't that he was embarrassed, not exactly; really, his head hurt too much to care about that. He tried to forget whatever it was they had said over the phone to General Brightman—"We just thanked him for the scotch, I think," Jack had insisted—and tried even harder to ignore the fact that Jack was not hungover after drinking so much. It was just another one of Jack's secrets Ianto been trying to puzzle out since starting at Torchwood Three.

Fortunately, it was a slow day aside from a Weevil sighting in Riverside that Gwen and Owen went after, and toward the end of the day, Jack found Ianto asleep in the tourist office. Ianto wasn't sure how long he'd been dozing in his book, but he would have expected Jack to make a loud noise and take the piss, as he'd done for Owen any number of times after the good doctor had come in looking far worse for wear. Yet Jack gently shook Ianto's shoulder and told him to go home since it was almost closing time anyway and things were quiet. Ianto protested, just as he had after they'd cleaned up the Vandosian mess, but Jack insisted, telling him to practice his backgammon game.

And so the next night, after a day that saw a few more Weevil sightings than usual, they sipped mineral water instead of liquor and played backgammon, and though Ianto fared better than he had at chess, Jack claimed the game in less than an hour. It was clear where their strengths lay, and Ianto wondered how long they might keep up their unusual arrangement to play upon them, or if they would ever venture out into something different—at least, something that didn't involve parlor games of some sort.

An upswing in Weevil sightings kept them unusually busy for the next week. Yet every night, one or the other of them casually sought the other out, and they sat together in Jack's office, the stopwatch out and ready. They finished their game of whist and tried a few others. Ianto played another round of chess and failed just as spectacularly as he had the first time.

Eventually they had a bit more fun with it: they timed how long it took Ianto to coax Mfanwy down from her roost to feed and how long it took Jack (Ianto won by quite a large margin). They timed how long it took the takeaway to arrive (not so long that it was free, but long enough that they were practically starving when it was finally delivered at the tourist office). They timed how long it took for Tosh to shut down her system after being told to go home for the night, smiling fondly at her when she finally waved goodbye and left them to their games.

And each night, they talked a bit more, usually over a glass of scotch or whiskey. They talked about work—about Weevils and aliens and rifts in space and time and Torchwood. They did not talk about too much that was personal, but gradually, from what Jack did say, Ianto began to piece together a bit more of the puzzle that was Jack Harkness, until he realized one day that Jack was more —more than their eccentric boss and leader, more than the mysterious enigma they all thought of him as and gossiped about.

He was brave, but lonely, confident but sad. He'd obviously lived longer than anyone suspected and seen more than any one of them could possibly see in a lifetime. He had always been a bit of a talker when it came to telling stories, but he was also a good listener.

And that was when Ianto realized that Jack was now his friend.


	8. 45:00

_45:00_

It had been relatively quiet at the Hub that day, at least compared to the past week, and Jack wondered if Ianto had any good ideas for that night, as he found himself looking forward to it more and more; he was really enjoying the time he spent with Ianto. It was an escape, a chance to talk and enjoy one another's company alone, outside the expectations of their relationship on the job. He thought of Ianto as a friend now, though there were times when he thought about the Welshman a bit more than he probably should, and he tried to hold those thoughts back because he didn't want to jeopardize the new friendship that they had. He'd had plenty of lovers; it had been a long time since he'd had a good friend.

It was as they all sat down for dinner that another Weevil sighting was reported, and for some reason, Jack was so excited at the prospect of getting out of the Hub after being cooped up all day with his thoughts, just waiting for the alert, that he jumped up from his place at the conference table, a sudden mad idea taking hold.

"Ianto, care to join me on this one?" he asked. He saw the others all glancing at one another. It was rather rare for Ianto to go after Weevils, even though he was perfectly capable; usually he stayed behind monitoring the police reports and directing them, planting false stories with the police or media before the sighting blew up into more than a rumor. Even Ianto looked slightly confused, so Jack grinned to set them at ease. "We can time it."

Ianto rolled his eyes as he stood, but Jack saw the grin hidden behind the look that told him Ianto understood. Owen pulled a face. "Time what? What are you two playing at?"

"Just a game," Ianto said. "It's how he got me pissed as hell a week or so ago."

"You timed how long it would take you to get drunk off your arse?" Owen asked, the scorn clear in his voice. Jack turned and grinned again.

"No, we timed how long it would take us to finish the most expensive bottle of scotch I could charge to U.N.I.T. Which is _how_ we got drunk off our arse. And tonight we'll time how long it takes us to run down this Weevil. Just for fun, you know."

"For fun. What is it with you and stopwatches?" Owen murmured. Ianto raised an eyebrow at Jack before glancing back at Owen.

"I told you, it's the button on top."

Owen snorted while Tosh and Gwen laughed and waved goodbye, probably glad to be able to continue their meal uninterrupted. Ianto grabbed his overcoat and followed Jack out to the SUV.

"Jack?" he asked, even though technically they were on duty and Jack would have expected a 'sir'. Still, they were alone, and Ianto was finally starting to get more comfortable being on a first name basis, and Jack preferred it that way. "Why did you want me to come along? Were you serious about timing it?"

"Why not?" asked Jack. "I can't think of anything better to do."

"Than hunt down smelly Weevils in the sewers?" Ianto replied dryly. He glanced out the window into the dark cold night. "I certainly can, and I believe it's my turn."

"Well, I could too," Jack replied with a sideways grin. "Only I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be interested."

Ianto's head whipped around in surprise, and Jack laughed out loud. He may have only half meant it, but he had said it, and he waited for Ianto's comeback, because maybe the man was hiding more surprises.

"Like what?" Ianto finally asked. Not what he had expected, and Jack thought he heard the slightest hint of trepidation in the other man's voice so he decided to back off—for now.

"You don't want to know," he said with a wink, pulling onto the M4.

"You don't know that," said Ianto, looking out the window as he replied. Now it was Jack's turn to glance over in surprise.

"Seriously?" he asked, and Ianto turned to give him one of those challenging looks, like he had when he'd first come to the office with the stopwatch.

"We catch this Weevil in less than thirty minutes, sure. I'll listen." Ianto met his gaze and held it, stopwatch suddenly in hand, and Jack had the distinct impression that Ianto knew exactly the kinds of things Jack would have on his list.

And he still wanted to know.

It took them almost forty-five minutes to run down the damn beast, though. Jack would have to wait another night.


	9. 4:52

_4:52_

They spent the next two nights tracking Weevils again with the rest of the team before getting wrapped up in a strange case involving, among many things, a Dogon Eye. By then it had been several nights since they had last joked about the stopwatch, and Ianto found he rather missed it. He wondered if Jack had as well. He was fairly sure he had caught Jack glancing at him more than usual, rolling his eyes or grinning or even making sad faces when another alert piled them into the SUV.

So when it was time to leave that night, he decided to check in, but Jack was not in his office. Frowning, Ianto tried to remember when Jack had left, but he had been down in the archives finishing the files on Eugene Jones and had obviously missed the man. Disappointed, Ianto grabbed his overcoat and left out the dock entrance, locking the door to the tourist office behind him. He thought about heading home, but decided he was hungry, so he set off for his favorite sushi place on the Quay, trying not to think about Jack and failing.

He felt the shadow step out behind him before he actually heard anything, and whirled with his weapon in his hand, only to find Jack right there, hands up and staring down the barrel of his gun.

"Jesus, Jack," Ianto breathed, letting his arm fall and locking the safety back into place. "What are you doing sneaking around like that?"

Jack held up Ianto's stopwatch; Ianto hadn't even realized Jack still had it from their last Weevil chase. "Just wondering when you'd finally leave. And timing your reflexes. Which are quite good, by the way."

"Still playing then?" Ianto asked, slightly annoyed by the adrenaline rush more than anything. He turned and continued down the boardwalk. He wasn't sure why he was asking the about the game, only that he had enjoyed it and missed it after not sharing a drink with Jack for the last several nights. He was actually a bit relieved when Jack followed him in spite of his snappish tone.

"Of course. I've got another bottle of scotch if you want to try to drink me under the table again," Jack offered. "It's been a long week of Weevil hunting, that's for sure."

"It has, but you do not," Ianto replied, scoffing but with a smile. "We finished the other one, you spent the day in your office working on reports, and I'm the one who usually keeps you stocked. So unless you have the power to make things magically appear, you're bluffing."

"No wonder you're so good at cards," Jack replied with a grin. "And no, I don't have that power. So got anything in mind, then? It is your turn."

Ianto shrugged, hating to admit defeat but unable to come up with anything that they hadn't already done several times already, or wouldn't just feel like a pointless pissing contest. His best hope was that Jack would suggest something he could turn against him. "Nothing, really. You broke me with that last chess match." He almost winked, but held it back, not wanting to go _that_ far.

"Damn." Jack almost looked disappointed, before another grin crossed his face "Well then, how about something off my list? I think that last Weevil we caught was under thirty." He tossed Ianto the stopwatch, which he caught easily.

"Depends on what it is, knowing how you think," Ianto replied, half dreading what Jack might come up, half curious what it might be and if he would actually consider it. "But I did say I'd listen."

Jack narrowed his eyes and studied him closely, and Ianto pondered whether he should be worried about whatever was going through Jack's mind, or interested. Finally Jack nodded and took his elbow.

"Come on, let's find a pub."

"A pub?" asked Ianto, letting himself be pulled along with a puzzled look on his face, because that was certainly not what he had been expecting, and Jack was still holding tight to his arm. "I was hoping for sushi. Why a pub?"

Jack grinned. "We can get a beer, and then see how long it takes us to get a number."

"A number?" Ianto repeated. "Like, from a woman?"

"Man, woman, alien, doesn't matter," said Jack. "It'll be fun. We can spot each other."

"God Jack, it's not like gymnastic routine," Ianto muttered as he pulled his arm free and tucked his hands into his pockets. Still, the idea intrigued him, because his mind was already thinking ahead. If he could direct Jack to the right pub, where he knew the barmaid from his flat complex and was on friendly flirting terms with her, he could win this one. It might even be fun.

"It could be, I'm flexible," Jack winked, then turned serious. "Let's just get out of here for a while. I'm sick of sitting around waiting for the next weevil alert."

Ianto followed him down the quay, the wind whipping against his face. He lowered his head against the chill and tried not to grin as he suggested a pub close to the Hub. Jack agreed easily, and Ianto just crossed his fingers than Miranda was working that night.

Jack cued him to start the stopwatch as soon as they entered, and it occurred to Ianto that timing themselves on the pull was almost as insane as chasing aliens down the alleys of Cardiff. Still, when he glanced around the warm pub and spotted Miranda at the bar, he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

"I'll get us a beer," he said as they claimed a table. He laid his overcoat over the back of his chair before Jack could protest. "Back in a minute."

And within five, Ianto Jones had returned with two beers and the number for the both the barmaid and the bartender. Jack was suitably stunned, grumbling under his breath while Ianto grinned in victory.

* * *

Author's Note:

All right, I have my doubts about this one, but there it is. Hope you liked some of the lines. ;)


	10. 5:34

_5:34_

Jack couldn't help it: he was sore about it at first and he didn't even know why. He certainly couldn't begrudge Ianto the numbers for two exceptionally attractive people, and yet…he did. Ianto teasingly asked if he was jealous, but Jack just shook his head and smiled. He wasn't jealous Ianto had got the numbers…if anything, he was envious of the numbers themselves, who had got Ianto.

It was a ridiculous thought that he pushed away as he forced himself to enjoy the rest of the night. Which really wasn't that hard, as Ianto was as good company outside of work as he was playing cards back at the Hub. Jack figured he just wasn't used to being beaten at his own game and tried not to dwell on it too much.

As they walked back to the Hub and the car park where Ianto had left his car, they were comfortably silent, until Ianto finally cleared his throat and spoke. Jack was fairly sure he heard the click of the stopwatch in Ianto's pocket. "So was that really one of the things on your list?"

Jack gave him a sideways grin. "Maybe. Why?"

Ianto shrugged, hands in his coat pockets to stay warm. "Just thought it'd be a bit more…randy, I suppose."

"Randy?" Jack laughed out loud and stopped. He leaned against the fence overlooking the bay, and Ianto came and stood next to him, shoulder to shoulder but not quite touching.

"Wrong choice of words," he offered, staring out across the dark water. "Lewd, perhaps. Kinky, even."

Jack chuckled and turned toward the water. "I could certainly come up with lewd and kinky."

Ianto was silent for a moment. "What's holding you back?"

"Not sure how it would be received," Jack shrugged in reply. Inside, he felt the odd flutter he'd felt a few times now when Ianto was close, or flirted back with him. He knew what it was, but he wasn't going to act on it without a sign, because he actually respected Ianto and their friendship…but was this, maybe, that sign?

"You might be surprised," Ianto murmured.

Jack shook his head. "I am constantly surprised by you, Ianto Jones. So surprised that I almost think I shouldn't be surprised anymore."

"Well, then," Ianto said, as if that answered and solved everything. Jack frowned as Ianto stepped away, a small smile on his face. "Shall we try another game again tomorrow? Shoot pontoon, perhaps? You win, and you can pick something from your lewd and kinky list."

"Rift opening tomorrow," Jack said, trying to imagine what Ianto would consider lewd and kinky and just how far he was willing to push their friendship. They started walking back up the boardwalk, still shoulder to shoulder. "It will probably be a busy day."

They came to the point where Ianto needed to turn toward the car park if he was going to head home, yet he seemed reluctant as he stopped to face Jack, his eyes unreadable in the dark. "Whenever we have time, then."

Jack nodded as he stepped closer. "I'll practice my card tricks and poker face. So what are you timing right now?"

"Something on my list," Ianto murmured. Jack actually shivered slightly at the teasing tone to the Welshman's voice, and it was all he could do to stop himself from pushing Ianto against the boardwalk wall and snogging him senseless, the force of the thought surprising him more than the statement itself.

"How long you can tease at this?" Jack asked, his voice low. Ianto's face was exceptionally near his, and he was strangely reminded of the night they had caught Mfanwy, and how close he had come to kissing Ianto after they'd tumbled to the ground in a laughing heap of charged adrenaline and testosterone.

Ianto raised a single eyebrow and leaned even closer. "Or how long you can resist." He tucked a piece of paper into Jack's pocket. "She's my neighbor." His hand came up with the stopwatch. "Five minutes thirty-four seconds."

"Prat," Jack muttered as he realized he'd been had. He caught the stopwatch as Ianto turned, tossed it over his shoulder, and walked away.

"Good night, Jack."

"Good night, Ianto."

It was not a sign then after all, and Jack sighed to himself as he walked back to the Hub, unsure whether he was disappointed or relieved.

* * *

Author's Note:

I'll leave it to you to decide what sort of game Ianto was really playing with him. ;)


	11. 30:10

_30:10_

The Rift opening the following day was big, and it brought them something none of them had experienced before: travelers from the past. And so the next week was spent trying to acclimate them to the lifestyles of the 21st century, with little time left for play, though Ianto did stop by a few times and they managed to connect, however quick and distracted it was. In some ways, it was a relief to spend some time apart after the strangely charged moment on the boardwalk, but Jack found he missed their late night chats and was ready to continue.

Now all the time travelers were all gone, and Jack was alone in his office. He swirled the amber liquid before him, feet propped on the desk, eyes gazing off into the distance as he thought about their sad fate once more. Three people, thrown fifty years out of their own time by a random quirk of the Rift. One young enough to adapt, one adventurous enough to continue searching, one so broken he'd chosen to die.

Closing his eyes, Jack silently toasted John Ellis and finished the glass. He set it down and picked up the stopwatch on his desk, playing with the button and idly wondering if Ianto was still around the Hub. He put it in his pocket and was just about to see if Ianto had gone home or might want to join him for that last promised game when there was a knock at the door.

"You didn't really answer my question earlier," said Ianto without preamble, hands in his pockets. "Are you okay?"

Jack sighed as he sat up and rubbed his face. "Yes, I'm fine." Ianto gave him a look that clearly said 'Really?' and Jack almost laughed as he answered again. "Honestly, I'm all right. And I'm still sorry about your car. It's just hard, watching a man die because of a broken heart and not being able to do anything."

Ianto nodded as he entered the office. He didn't ask permission as he once had, but sat down in front of Jack's desk and crossed his legs. "So you were there, you watched him die. You didn't just find him."

"I tried to talk him out of it," Jack said softly. "But he was in too much pain. I had to let him go."

"And did you sit with him?" Ianto asked after a moment's hesitation.

Jack glanced up, only slightly surprised at the question even though he suspected Ianto had started to put things together after spending so much time with one another. He nodded, watching the other man's reaction closely.

A barely perceptible widening of the eyes was all as Ianto took a deep breath. "Are you sure you're all right then? Carbon monoxide poisoning is usually fatal, to most people."

"I'm not most people," Jack murmured. He stood and poured himself another drink, offering a glass to Ianto, but the other man declined, apparently still thinking about Jack's words.

"You understand," Ianto said suddenly into the comfortable silence that had fallen between them. "You're in the wrong time too, so you know what he was going through."

"Ianto, I—" Jack started as he returned to his desk.

"It's okay," Ianto held up a hand and stopped him. "I know you don't like to talk about it, but it's not like I haven't figured out some things about you. I can't say I understand, because I don't think anyone really can, but I will say that I think you did the right thing. You shouldn't blame yourself."

Jack sighed as he leaned back. "I don't blame myself. It's just all this, this job, this responsibility, sometimes it's…" He waved his hand vaguely at the Hub and the Rift, and Ianto glanced out the window, his eyes filled with sympathy and the very understanding he'd just professed not to have.

"It's just too much."

"Yes," Jack agreed.

"It's Torchwood," Ianto pointed out with that casual shrug of his. "It's always too much. We deal with it as best as we can, for as long as we can, until one or the other wins out in the end."

Jack frowned at the response and leaned forward. "What do you mean? Ianto, are _you_ all right?"

Ianto raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I'm fine, why do you ask?"

"It's been almost three months since Lisa died," Jack said, refusing to hesitate and preferring to face it head on as it suddenly occurred to him. "And seeing as it's Christmas, I should be the one asking if _you're_ all right."

Ianto's face softened into a genuine smile. It was gratifying to see, when the man so often hid behind a mask, occasionally dropping dry bits of humor and snarky one-liners. Yet when Ianto smiled, he relaxed, and Jack had done that simply by asking. He liked the relaxed, open Ianto.

"Thank you, Jack," Ianto finally murmured. "But I'm fine too, I really am."

He seemed to be telling the truth, so Jack returned the smile and sat back again. "Good. What are you doing for Christmas then?"

And just like that, the mask slipped back on. Ianto glanced away with a shrug of tight shoulders. "I should go out to my sister's, see her and the kids." He stopped and returned his gaze to Jack. "But I suspect something will come up at work in the morning, and I'll have to phone her my regrets."

Jack frowned again. "Why? There are no Rift predictions for tomorrow."

A bitter laugh cut the air. "She doesn't know that," Ianto murmured, and somehow Jack immediately understood.

"You don't want to go," he said. "Why not?"

And now the other man ran a nervous hand through the hair, which meant Jack was touching a nerve. He and Ianto were friends, but had really only scratched the surface when it came to sharing their personal lives. Jack tried to respect the other man's reticence, and knew his own life was far too complicated to ever be able to explain. Yet this demanded more, so Jack waited patiently.

"We're not that close, not anymore," said Ianto. "You'd think that when I came back to Cardiff things would have changed, but it was just too hard to let her in…" He trailed off, his voice so quiet he was almost talking to himself, his eyes distant as his thoughts turned elsewhere, likely to the past.

Jack stood up so abruptly Ianto jumped. "You should go. Go home now, go to your sister's tomorrow. Don't make up an excuse to faff around here all day. I'll be here if anything comes up. It's Christmas, so go home to your family."

"If it's all the same to you, sir," Ianto said, reverting to formality and standing as well, "I don't mind if you've anywhere you'd like to be."

Now it was Jack's turn to laugh bitterly. "I've got nowhere to go, so take advantage of it when you do. If your family wants to see you, let them see you."

Ianto shook his head. "There will just be so many questions about Lisa, about London, about Canary Wharf," he said softly. "Questions I never answered, questions I never can." Jack laid a hand on the man's shoulder, wanting to offer support by pulling him into an embrace, but not knowing how it would be received: Ianto Jones was a strong man who didn't often share his vulnerability.

"Then answer them quickly and quietly and let it be. They deserve to know what you can tell them. They deserve to know _you."_

Ianto met his eyes for a long moment before he nodded and stepped away, just as he had on the boardwalk, only this time there was no teasing, only regret. And then the eyebrow again. "Wait a minute. I came up here to check on you. Will you be all right, on your own after all that's happened?"

Jack forced himself to laugh, even though he hated the thought of spending Christmas alone this year. There were people he cared about that he wanted to be with, including the man before him…only he couldn't. It hurt more than he expected. "I'll be fine. I've done it before and I'll do it again, for queen and country." He punctuated his glib remarks with a wink, but Ianto was not fooled. Instead of rolling his eyes, he frowned.

"Call me if you need anything, Jack. I mean it."

"I know. I'll be fine. Happy Christmas, Ianto."

"Happy Christmas, Jack." There was a slight hesitation, as if Ianto were torn between offering a handshake or a hug; he finally just nodded with that soft smile that Jack loved to see, and Jack smiled back, a silent understanding passing between them.

Jack watched him leave before stepping back into his office with a sigh. Another holiday to be spent alone with nothing but aliens and the space-time continuum to keep him company. He put his hands in his pockets and found the stopwatch, unaware it had been on since he'd stuffed it there. Thirty minutes, ten seconds. How many hours did that leave until the holiday was over and his team came back? Until Ianto came back?

He passed the time by reading, catching up on reports, even a bit of television before finally falling asleep late into the night, still thinking about his exchange with Ianto.

Christmas was always lonely.

He was awakened by the smell of coffee from somewhere above him; dressing quickly, Jack hurried up into his office and followed his nose, not daring to hope for anything.

A steaming hot carafe was standing on his desk, his coffee mug and a fresh scone set neatly beside it. There was no card, just a big blue bow on top of the neatly wrapped pastry, but Jack knew instantly who it was from, and he smiled as he thought that perhaps Christmas wouldn't be so bad after all.

And when Ianto showed up later that night with a leftover pudding from his sister's house, Jack decided that it might just have been one of the better holidays he'd had in years.

* * *

Author's Note:

It's getting harder and harder to work in the stopwatch and the list as things evolve here, lol. I'm looking at 4-6 more chapters, though, and they are getting a bit longer now as things develop. Thank you for reading (and hopefully reviewing!)


	12. O:10

_:10_

"Ianto!" Jack called. "Let's go! We're leaving."

Ianto glanced up from where he was working at his computer and frowned. "Where are you going again?"

Jack rolled his eyes as he sauntered over and leaned against the computer. "It's New Years Eve, Ianto. We're going out to celebrate, and you're coming with us."

Ianto raised an eyebrow in response. "I already volunteered to keep an eye on the Rift, seeing as you did Christmas. I want to finish the files for this year and clean up for the next—"

Jack turned the computer monitor off. "Get up."

"Jack, I was right in the middle of something!" Ianto protested, reaching for the monitor. Jack caught his wrist and pulled him up. Then he handed Ianto his suit coat.

"It can wait," he said firmly. "There's no reason to hang around here tonight."

"Except I don't want to go out," Ianto grumbled, but he pulled on his jacket, grabbed his overcoat, and followed Jack toward the cog door where Tosh, Owen and Gwen were waiting. Owen grumbled something about 'finally' while Tosh gave him a hug.

"I knew you'd come," she said softly. "It's time to put this year behind us."

He gave her a grateful smile, linked elbows with her, and together they filed outside and across the Plass. It was a short walk to a local pub that was already crowded with both tourists and locals, but they somehow managed to find a large table in the back. Ianto suspected Jack had probably flashed his Torchwood credentials, as they were served quite attentively the entire night.

He had to admit it was better than staying behind by himself at the Hub. As much as he didn't feel like celebrating the start of a new year, Tosh was right in that it would feel good to put the past behind him. Soon it would be six months since Canary Wharf, and Ianto finally felt as if he almost had his feet under him again after stumbling along for so long**.** He had come to Torchwood Three for all the wrong reasons, but he had stayed because, in the end, it was where he belonged, far more than he had Torchwood One.

He was more than a junior researcher now, he was important, needed. The others might not think so, and sometimes Ianto even wondered whether Jack still took advantage of him now and then, but Ianto knew that what he did was something only he could do, something Torchwood Three had needed and couldn't do without now. Deep down, he enjoyed being needed, taking care of the Hub, the team…just has he had needed to take care of Lisa. He had failed her; he would not fail the others, especially Jack.

Gwen left them first, begging off to ring in the new year with Rhys. Owen followed not long after, having apparently chatted up someone at the bar. Ianto watched him leave with an attractive blond woman who was almost as pissed as the doctor. Jack caught his eye and they shrugged; it was obvious that Owen was still upset over Diane, but apparently he had his ways of dealing with it.

He, Jack, and Tosh continued to talk until Tosh looked about ready to fall asleep in her wine glass. It was only her second one, but she'd been pulling late nights since Christmas and apparently it was all catching up to her. She even laid her head down on Ianto's shoulder, and he was pretty sure she dozed off while he kept talking to Jack. Finally Jack gave him a look that clearly said 'She should go home,' so Ianto nodded and nudged her gently as he offered to get her a cab.

Even though there was only a half hour until midnight, she didn't protest. He walked her outside into the cold night and embraced her before leaving. She in turn kissed him on the cheek. "Happy new year, Ianto," she said softly. "I hope it's a better one for you."

Her heartfelt concern touched him, and he simply nodded, unable to speak as he helped her into the cab and paid the driver. Tosh had already leaned back, her eyes closed, and Ianto watched fondly as the cab pulled away, hoping it would be a good year for them both after all they'd gone through.

He headed back into the building, expecting to find Jack at the bar flirting with half the pub, but Jack was still at the table, swirling his drink and watching the crowd grow more and more rowdy as the clock moved toward midnight. The look on his face, however, was haunted, and Ianto had a fairly good idea why.

"Do you always leave the Hub for New Year's?" he asked softly, and Jack turned to him in surprise.

"I know what happened there, at the millennium. What Alex Hopkins did."

Jack finished his drink and nodded. "Of course you do. Do the others?"

Ianto shrugged. "Probably. They don't know that you always stay at the Thistle the night of December 31st, though. And if they did, they probably wouldn't put it together."

"But you did," Jack murmured.

"It's what I do," Ianto replied blandly. Really, it had almost nothing to do with his job; he had just stumbled upon the hotel reservation by accident. Having read as much of Jack's file as he could piece together both before he had come to Cardiff and after, it hadn't taken much to figure it out. After Alex Hopkins had killed his entire team, leaving Jack with the cleanup, how could anyone spend New Year's Eve at the Hub with such a memory? Really, it was a miracle that Jack hadn't left Torchwood that night.

"Why did you come back?" Ianto asked. It was a far more personal question than unusual, perhaps, but he and Jack were friends, and if Jack were to ask him something similar, he knew he would answer openly and honesty. He had, in fact, shared far more than he was used to at Christmas.

"It's what I do," Jack replied, tossing Ianto's words back at him with a slightly bitter smile.

Ianto nodded as he glanced away. "Right." So much for sharing. "Well, everyone's left us, as usual. Did you want to stay for the countdown, or were you going to head to the Thistle?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't know. I usually watch the fireworks on television."

Ianto felt a pang of sadness, as he realized that last New Year's Eve he had actually gone to see the fireworks, back in London with Lisa. He had hated everything about it—the crowds, the noise, the utter chaos of it all—except for being with her, which had always made it worth it. And now, a year later, she was gone, and he'd likely end up watching it on television as well.

They sat in silence for a moment, both lost in memories of the past, until Jack forced another smile. "We might as well stay, see what the fuss is about. Although it'd be nice to have someone to kiss at midnight."

Ianto snorted into his glass. "Don't look at me, then. That's definitely not in my job description."

"Could be," Jack replied, and Ianto couldn't tell whether or not the man was joking: the look in Jack's eyes somehow didn't match the grin on his face.

Ianto wasn't sure how to reply, so he didn't. He thought about it, though, and whether he would consider it if Jack was being serious. He shook his head and actually laughed to himself at the thought that yes, he probably would consider it. Something about Jack definitely attracted him, but he'd always written it off as inconsequential—something about Jack attracted just about everyone. He'd once said something about 51st century pheromones, and not for the first time Ianto thought maybe the man hadn't been joking.

And so he flirted back as innocently as possible, because Jack flirted with everyone, and it was fun, their particular banter. He had always forced himself to not think of it as anything more, even when the thought crept in through cracks and crevices in his mind when they were together, but did Jack think anything of it, of him?

"When was the last time you went out for New Year's Eve?" Ianto finally asked instead. Jack pretended to be offended.

"I'd call spending the night in the best room at Thistle going out, wouldn't you?" he asked.

"Not if you're shut up in your hotel room watching instead of celebrating," Ianto tossed back.

"Touché," Jack murmured. "Then probably about ten years, at least. I'm not one for holidays, you know."

"I noticed," Ianto replied. "Do you miss it?" he asked. "Holidays, celebrating, days off—things like that?"

"I don't know," said Jack. "It's been so long I wouldn't know a day off if it hit me in the face and shoved itself down my throat."

Ianto laughed at the image. "Then you probably need at least a good week or two off."

"I don't know what I'd do with it," Jack shrugged again. "Besides, wouldn't you miss me?"

Ianto had the distinct impression Jack wasn't just referring to the team, but Ianto specifically. "Yes, _we_ would," he answered, and Jack shook his head with a little roll of his eyes. "And I'd rather not have to play cards with Owen."

"Of course not," Jack murmured. "He'd probably be a poor loser when you cleaned him out." He glanced at his watch. "Ten minutes until midnight. I think it's going to get ridiculously loud in here soon. Want to start the new year a bit differently?"

Ianto glanced around the noisy crowd, finished his drink, and nodded. "Why not?" He had no idea what Jack had in mind, but he trusted him (mostly) and didn't think sitting around a pub watching others celebrate would be the best way to start anew.

So he followed Jack out, walking down the Plass and toward the Millennium Centre. There were people everywhere, though it was nothing like London the year before. When they got to the Centre, Jack led him around back, pulling out his phone to send a quick text. Within moments, a middle-aged security guard appeared nearby.

"'Evening, Captain Harkness," the man said in a thick brogue. "Come for the view again? It's been a while."

"I've been working, Ewan," Jack said with a wink. "Cardiff is a busy place."

The man snorted as he unlocked a back door for them. "For space aliens. Right. Enjoy the fireworks, sir. I'll be around to lock up when you're ready."

"Thanks, Ewan. Happy New Year."

Ianto watched the exchange with both curiosity and amusement. Jack really did have connections if he could get into the Millennium Centre at midnight on New Year's Eve with just a text message. He followed Jack into the building and up through a series of stairwells until, just as he expected, he found himself stepping out onto the roof, with all of Cardiff spread out before him.

"Impressive," he said, referring to both the view and the fact that Jack had got them what would likely be a great seat for the fireworks display from the Civic Centre.

"Just in time, too," Jack said. "Come on, let's sit down and enjoy the show."

And so they sat side by side, counting down the seconds with the crowd below until the year turned. When it did, Ianto felt a strange twist in his gut as he remembered what Jack had said earlier, about having someone to kiss at midnight. Last year he had kissed Lisa; this year he was sitting on the roof of the Millennium Centre with his boss, thinking he wouldn't mind having someone to kiss either—and that he wouldn't even mind kissing Jack.

He felt Jack's eyes on him and turned to face him and thought maybe, just maybe, it was going to happen as they both seemed to move almost imperceptibly closer…but then the first fireworks started, and they each jumped with a nervous laugh as the brief moment was lost yet again. Jack grinned, and Ianto matched it.

"Happy New Year, Ianto Jones."

"Happy New Year, Jack."

They sat together in comfortable silence under the starry sky as the crowds cheered below and the fireworks lit the sky above. And somehow Ianto knew it would be a good year, as long as Jack was by his side.

* * *

Author's Notes:

The bitter irony of that last line really stings, doesn't it? Yeah, I hate myself for it. And for not letting them kiss, lol. Told you they weren't going to fall into bed. I'm teasing this one out so put your patient pants on.

Also, I'm guessing they'd be able to see the fireworks from the roof. Not being particularly familiar with roofs or Wales, I'm taking authorial liberty on that one for the sake of plot and character and all that stuff. Enjoy and thanks for reading!


	13. 4:20

_4:20_

"Four minutes, twenty seconds," Ianto said as Jack stepped out of Owen's hospital room. He tucked the stopwatch into his pocket and shrugged at the look Jack gave him: annoyance tinged with exasperation. "I didn't think you'd last that long."

"Why not?" asked Jack, walking quickly out of the hospital, so that Ianto forced himself to keep up with Jack's long strides.

"I know you don't like to lose people," Ianto replied.

"No one does," Jack snapped. "And we didn't."

"But we almost did, and to a stupid, emotional mistake."

Jack stopped and stared at him. "What?"

Again Ianto shrugged and continued walking, this time forcing Jack to stay with him. "I happen to have experience with doing stupid, emotional things. I know the consequences, for everyone."

Jack was silent as they left the hospital and made their way to the car park. To Ianto's surprise, he tossed over the keys and climbed in the passenger door. Ianto wasn't sure whether that meant Jack wanted to drive back in silence, or if he wanted to talk. So he simply waited.

They were halfway back to the Hub when Jack finally turned away from the window. "Are you timing how long we can sit here without talking?"

Ianto gave him a sideways glance. "No, sir. Just concentrating on the road."

"You're not thinking about what happened back there with Owen?" Jack asked.

"A bit," Ianto admitted. There was another long silence before Jack spoke again.

"Did you feel like that after Lisa died?" he asked softly, looking out the window once again. "Did you just want to die, like Owen?"

Ianto took a deep breath to force his suddenly racing heart to calm. He stared straight ahead as he tried to bring his thoughts into some semblance of order. He didn't want to lie, but he wasn't sure of the truth: it had been months since Lisa had tried to destroy the Hub, and sometimes he felt like he still wasn't over it—over her. Other times all he wanted to do was forget that the nightmare had ever happened, because he was finally moving on from the horror that had been Canary Wharf. Life was starting to resemble something normal—or as normal as Torchwood could be.

But had he wanted to die, like Owen?

"Yes, there were times when I wanted to die," Ianto finally replied quietly. "But not for the same reasons as Owen."

He could feel Jack's gaze return to him. "How so?" asked the other man, his voice both curious and gentle. A quick glance sideways earned Ianto an encouraging smile, and he swallowed, nodding to show he was willing to share more.

"I wanted to die from the shame, the guilt. I wanted to die not just because I'd lost her, but because I'd failed her." Ianto paused for another deep breath. "And I wanted to die because I had betrayed so many people—because I had betrayed you." He and Jack had not talked much about that terrible time, aside from some very difficult conversations during Ianto's suspension. Then Jack had wanted to know how Ianto had managed it and tried to understand Ianto's reasoning; Ianto in turn had struggled with the consequences of his loss and betrayal and whether he should even go back to Torchwood Three. But this was different: this was Jack trying to understand something else, something even more personal, and Ianto wanted to tell him, because in the months since then, he'd come to think of Jack as so much more than just his boss.

Jack was watching him with a sympathetic look on his face. He reached over and laid his hand on Ianto's knee, and Ianto offered him a small smile.

"Thank you for sharing that," said Jack softly. "I know that was hard."

Ianto shook his head. "Not as much, not anymore. Not with you."

"I did shoot her," Jack murmured, and Ianto froze as he sucked in a sharp breath.

"Because I couldn't," he whispered, forcing back the flicker of anger that flared when he thought about those shots ringing out behind him. "Again—my failure, my shame, my guilt."

"I'm not sure what I'd think of you if you had, you know," Jack said softly, his hand back in his own lap and his eyes gazing out the window again. "I think I would have been even more shocked and disgusted if you had done it."

"It wasn't a moment for mercy," Ianto said, though he felt like he had to grind it out. It still hurt, that Lisa had been given such little consideration, even though he knew, logically and deep down, that she had never had a chance, not from the moment he had pulled her out of Canary Wharf.

"It was a moment for love, for loyalty," Jack said, turning back. "We heard what she said to you. How could you have killed her? I don't even know if I could have, if I had been you. It was an impossible situation."

"It was a situation of my own doing, sir," Ianto replied. He wondered how they had got started on the subject, and remembered his own comparison to Owen, wishing he had never made it, as it now seemed miles apart.

"No, no it wasn't," Jack said, suddenly sitting up straighter and piercing Ianto with a gaze he could feel from the side. "It wasn't your fault that she was caught, that she was converted. You tried to save her. Tosh tried to help Mary. Owen tried to stop Diane." He shook his head sadly. "Sometimes I think I've forgotten how motivating love can be."

Ianto almost wanted to reach out and take Jack's hand but made sure to keep both on the steering wheel. He did, however, offer a sad smile. "It can be just as damning as well," he replied, and Jack nodded, his eyes dark.

"I know," he murmured. "I know that too." He sighed, and when Ianto glanced sideways, he saw an unguarded look of deep sadness etched into every line of Jack's face. He felt a burst of sympathy for the man: out of his own time and having lived uncommonly long, he probably did know too well the destructive power of love. "Ianto, why do I keep messing up?"

Ianto did not expect that and had to jerk the car back into his lane as he momentarily lost concentration. "Jack, you haven't messed up. What are you talking about?"

"I keep missing these things. You, Tosh, now Owen. My team is capable of such boundless love that they would risk everything for it. And apparently I'm so incapable that I miss it every time."

Ianto was silent for a moment, then abruptly pulled onto the shoulder of the road and stopped the car. He turned to Jack with a very sincere and earnest look on his face. "Jack, that's not true and you know it. You are more capable of love than all of us combined. You love deeply and fiercely, and I suspect that's why you feel it so keenly." Jack was giving him a skeptical look, and Ianto shook his head, forcing determination into his voice.

"No, it's not your fault, Jack. You're our boss, our leader, yes, but you are not our father or our psychiatrist or, god forbid, our priest." That drew a small smile, at least. "You're a man, just like the rest of us. You've more reason than anyone to refuse to care anymore, let alone love, after all you've been through, but you still do. We all know you do."

"You do?" Jack whispered. Ianto turned toward Jack and simply nodded.

"We know, Jack. I know." They stared at one another for what felt like an eternity. Ianto saw in Jack's eyes the truth of his statement and much more: the deep sadness that was reflected there whenever Jack let his rare guard down, the lonely acceptance of who he was even if he didn't want to be that person. Though he had once called Jack a monster, Ianto knew that Jack was no such thing. Some days Jack seemed to think so, but today would not be that day.

"Thank you," Jack finally whispered. Ianto cleared his throat, because the tension (or was it the heat?) in the car felt like it had gone up a great deal. He licked suddenly dry lips, and Jack started to lean forward, as if it was an unintentional signal (maybe it was?) but before he could move more than a few inches, Ianto started the car, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly to force back the thoughts that had come unbidden to his mind once more. He would not go there: Jack was his boss and his friend, nothing more, and he certainly wouldn't take advantage when Jack was upset.

"Come on, let's stop for lunch. We'll bring the girls back something." Ianto took the car from park and pulled back onto the road. Jack nodded but was silent.

"You are a good, good man, Ianto Jones."

Ianto shrugged and tried to put some emotional distance between them. "I don't know about that, sir. I'm just trying to do my job."

Jack actually laughed and the tension disappeared almost completely. "It's not your job to talk me off the ledge. It's your job to help me catch aliens, cover it up, and file the paperwork on it."

Ianto smiled to himself, his heart warmed by the sound of Jack's laughter and familiar banter. Hopefully the moment of pensive brooding was over. This time he was the one who reached over and touched Jack's knee, distance be damned. "It's my job as a friend, then," he said softly.

Jack placed his hand on top of Ianto's but did not reply. They drove all the way back to the Hub like that, in silence, completely forgetting to stop for lunch.

* * *

Author's Note

What can I say? Another near miss, I know, but I saw this scene so clearly in my mind's eye that I couldn't leave it out. I can see Jack making these connections and I'd love to think Ianto was indeed the one who talked him off the ledge when Jack needed it.


	14. 5:00

_5:00_

"Dammit, Jack, I said I was fine," Ianto snapped, the look in his eyes dark and annoyed as he turned his back and stomped away.

"Like hell you are, what happened?" Jack followed Ianto down to the autopsy bay, his heart in racing with worry, but the man ignored him, instead beginning to look through various drawers for whatever he thought he needed for the serious injury to his face that Jack had just barely glimpsed as Ianto had pushed past him.

"Tosh!" Jack shouted up the stairs. "What's going on?"

"Oi!" replied Owen instead, coming down to the bay. His own injuries were still visible, though healing more every day. "What's all the shouting for?"

"Ianto's been injured," Jack said, crossing his hands over his chest. "And he won't tell me what happened."

"So you're having a domestic over it?" Owen replied sarcastically. "Lovely."

Jack saw Ianto tense. "I tripped," Ianto replied shortly, his back to both Jack and the doctor now.

"While I could definitely see that happening," Owen said, "why don't you let me take a look? I am a doctor and all." He placed a hand on Ianto's tight shoulder, but it was violently shaken off.

"I said I'm fine. I just need a few things to clean up."

"Ianto," Jack started, but Owen actually hushed him with a waved hand.

"What do you need, Ianto?" His voice was softer now, as if he had intuitively sensed something Jack had missed.

Ianto sighed. "Something to clean it up, a large bandage, some painkillers or cream, perhaps."

"Right. Why don't you sit down, and I'll find what you need. Give me five minutes on that stopwatch of yours, and you'll be good as new." Still the surprisingly gentle voice. Ianto nodded, took a deep breath, and turned around.

"Bilbo's bollocks," said Owen, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

"My god, Ianto—" Jack tried again. Ianto waved them both off as he sat down rather heavily on the autopsy table.

"It's nothing. It just stings a bit."

"A bit?" asked Owen. He began examining the injury. The entire right side of Ianto's face was scraped raw, swollen and dirty from his hairline to his chin. A large cut near his temple had left behind a good deal of matted blood in his hair. Even his neck and ear were scratched up. "Mate, that must hurt like hell. You look like you were in some kind of freak motorcycle accident."

"Not exactly," Ianto murmured. Whereas just moments earlier he had been tight and tense, now he slumped over, eyes downcast as Owen finished looking at his injuries, checking his head wound, his eyes and ears and reflexes.

"No concussion, so that's good," the doctor finally reported. "Anything else hurt?"

"Just my head, since that's where I landed," Ianto replied, a wry smile just barely touching his lips. "Although I can feel the bruises starting along the rest of my right side."

"What happened?" Jack asked again. Owen gave him a look, a warning perhaps, but Jack had to know. Ianto just shook his head.

"I was stupid," he muttered. "I'm sorry."

"You were not," said Tosh, coming up behind them. "You didn't know it had a force field." She turned to Jack, her face falling. "It's my fault, Jack. I'm sorry I missed it, but my scanners didn't pick up any hint of shielding."

"It's not your fault," Ianto said. He reached out for her hand, and she squeezed it tight. Jack was starting to get frustrated.

"Will someone tell me what's going on?" he demanded. "What force field? What happened?"

Ianto hissed as Owen began cleaning his wounds. "Sorry, teaboy. Got to clean the asphalt out. Unless you want microscopic bits of glass ruining your complexion."

Ianto shut his eyes and motioned for Tosh to talk while Owen worked. She turned to Jack, still with the apologetic look on her face.

"We were out getting coffee when I picked up a small rift spike not far from here, so we walked over to investigate. We found what appeared to be some sort of alien tech in an alley way."

"Do you know what it is?" asked Jack. She shook her head.

"I'm already running tests. The scanner said it was clear and safe, no explosives of any type, but when Ianto went to retrieve it, some sort of force field activated and blew him back twenty feet. He landed pretty hard."

Owen gave a low whistle. "That sounds like fun. No wonder you look like you were snogging the pavement."

Ianto opened his eyes to glare at the doctor. "I'll remember that next time you ask for coffee after a Weevil chews you up and spits you out."

Owen froze, bitter retort on his lips before Jack stepped in. "That's enough. I'll finish up here. Owen, take a look at this thing with Tosh. Maybe we can figure it out. It's been a bit slow around here, we could use a project."

Owen nodded and stepped away. He went upstairs with Tosh, shooting one last glare at Ianto before moving out of sight. Ianto was silent.

"That was unusually harsh," Jack said softly.

"Don't start," Ianto replied, but instead of appearing angry, he just sounded tired. "I'm sorry I snapped at him, but sometimes he pushes too much." He paused. "And my head hurts like hell."

Jack took a clean antiseptic pad from the supplies Owen had brought out and began to dab at the cut on Ianto's temple. Again the man flinched in pain, and Jack almost backed off for fear of hurting him, but it was a deep cut that needed to be cleaned, so he tried to be gentle as he worked.

"Thought you'd be used to him by now," Jack said quietly so no one would hear them.

"I don't think anyone ever gets used to Owen," Ianto returned bitterly.

"He was just trying to help," Jack said.

"I know." Ianto was silent for a moment. "I suppose I'm more upset at myself than at anything. It was a stupid lapse in judgment."

Jack stepped back and frowned. "What do you mean, a lapse in judgment? Tosh said everything was clear. Neither one of you could have known that whatever it was had its own defenses. It could be Tosh sitting here, probably looking much worse."

Ianto shrugged and ran his left hand through his hair. "Doesn't make me feel any better about getting my face plastered to the street by a bit of alien scrap metal."

"I know," Jack said with half a grin. "You really do look like hell."

"Thanks," Ianto said as Jack continued to clean his wound. Jack was torn between wanting to take the man in his arms and comfort him with an embrace or berate him for putting himself at such risk so soon after they'd almost lost Owen. Jack settled for a quick kiss to the top of Ianto's head, ignoring the longing for more, and voiced what he felt most.

"Just be careful next time," he said. Ianto glanced up at him in surprise, but Jack held his gaze. "I'm serious. I need you, here in one piece. You scared the hell out of me walking in like that."

"I'm sorry," Ianto murmured, closing his eyes and turning away as Jack began to wipe the dirt and blood from the man's neck and ear. "Nice to know someone cares, though."

"Of course I care," Jack replied just as softly, leaning in closer so only Ianto would hear him. "You know I do. You said it yourself."

Ianto tipped his head. "I didn't mean to scare you, Jack. You don't have to worry about me, really. I'm not going to go jumping into Weevil cages anytime—"

"That's not what I meant," Jack said. There was a long silence that stretched between them, words unsaid for so long now almost begging to be spoken out loud.

"I know." Ianto sighed and looked away.

"Good." Jack cleared his throat, not sure what to say next. "Then maybe sometime we should—"

"Jack," called Tosh from above them. "I've got something you should see."

Jack let his head fall with a curse under his breath. Ianto glanced up at him, faint amusement in his eyes. "You've been summoned."

"I'm not finished with you yet," Jack replied calmly, although whatever had been about to fall from his mouth was certainly lost to the interruption now. He wasn't even sure what he had been going to say. Sometime they should—what? Talk? Have a drink? Play another game of chess? Strip naked and snog one another senseless against the wall until the sun came up the next day…

"I can finish," Ianto replied, reaching up and stopping Jack's hand with a smile. If Ianto didn't feel the same charge Jack felt at the contact, he hid it well. "Go see what that thing did to me."

Jack sighed as he handed over the antiseptic cloth. He ran a gentle finger across Ianto's injured cheek, and this time noticed how the man shivered under his touch. "You're not going to be able to shave, you know," he said, not sure what prompted the strange remark, but to his surprise, Ianto laughed and seemed to finally relax. The non sequitur broke the connection they'd just barely held onto once more.

"Then I'll grow that beard Lisa was always trying to get me to wear. She though it would make me look older."

Jack pretended to study him, trying to ignore how his heart sped up at the thought of Ianto Jones growing a beard. "I'd go for it," he finally said with a wink, and Ianto laughed again.

"Then I suppose I'll have to suffer the discomfort," Ianto replied, a twinkle in his eye. Jack was about to offer back an equally flirtatious retort when they were interrupted once more.

"Oi, Jack! Come take a look at this!"

Shaking his head, Jack just smiled at Ianto and turned to leave.

"Thank you, Jack," Ianto said behind him. Jack turned to find Ianto gingerly cleaning his neck a bit more.

"You're welcome. Just remember what I said."

"About not shaving?" Ianto asked, wide-eyed innocent look ruined by the slight quirk at the end of his lips.

Now it was Jack's turn to laugh. "About being careful. I really do need you, Ianto."

Ianto nodded, no words necessary. Jack headed upstairs to where Tosh and Owen were bent over whatever it was that had been retrieved in the alley and injured Ianto. Jack hardly heard them as they started to prattle at him about it. He was too busy thinking about how his heart had dropped when Ianto had walked in, bruised and bloodied; how scared he'd been until Owen had checked out the Welshman and assured them he was all right; how relieved he'd felt when Ianto's injury had turned out to be gruesome-looking but relatively minor.

And he tried not to think of what it was like to touch the man's face, his neck, his ear…because Jack needed Ianto in more ways than he had ever imagined now. He just wasn't sure if he would ever have him…or if he should.

* * *

Author's Note:

Another one of those scenes that just comes to you and demands to be written, I wanted this to parallel the last chapter a bit. If you are following the timeline, the next chapter deals with the episode 'Captain Jack Harkness' and I am really excited to post it soon! Thank you for reading!


	15. 28:30 (Again)

_28:30_

"I thought I'd find you up here," said a voice behind him, Welsh accent fluttering on the wind. Jack continued to gaze out across Cardiff but grinned to himself; of course he'd been found. Ianto stepped up behind him, and he could imagine the man standing there, hands in his pockets, blue eyes either staring into the darkness or watching Jack carefully. He did not turn to answer, did not say anything at all.

"Of course, I checked the CCTV footage before I climbed all those stairs, just to be sure," Ianto continued. He moved a bit closer but did not invite himself to sit down, not yet. Jack nodded.

"Good thinking. How did you manage to get into the building?"

"Same way you did." Jack could picture Ianto shrugging behind him. "I tracked down the security guard easy enough and asked him to let me in. He remembered me from New Year's Eve."

"Right."

There was a long moment of silence. "Can I join you, then? It is a bit chilly standing upright in this wind."

Jack laughed silently. "Of course. Have a seat."

He felt rather than saw Ianto sit down next to him, elbows resting on bent knees. There was another long, but not uncomfortable silence, until Ianto spoke once more.

"If we were in your office, I'd ask if there was anything you needed before I left or if you wanted to play a quick game of black jack." Jack turned and quirked an eyebrow at him. "I've got the stopwatch," Ianto said, pulling it out and clicking the button on top. He set it down between them. "Seeing as this is not your office but a lonely rooftop high above Cardiff, I think I'll ask again if you're all right."

Jack looked out at the city, toward the dance hall where he had met his namesake the day before. He smiled to himself at the memory. "I'm fine, Ianto. Just thinking."

Ianto seemed to follow his gaze. "About 1941?" Jack nodded in response, and heard Ianto take a breath, as if working himself up for his next comment. "Is that your real time, then? 1941?"

Jack glanced at him in surprise. "No, it's not, but it was a good time."

He expected Ianto to ask him about his real time, but once again Ianto Jones surprised him. "What was so good about it?" he asked softly.

Jack laughed to himself once more, although this time there was bitter pitch to it. "I'm not really sure. The war was on so it was a dark time too, but it was also beautiful and heroic and honest. So different than any other time I've lived through."

He expected Ianto to ask him about those other times, but again the question was unforeseen. "Was it harder to go back, then, or harder to leave?" he asked.

"A bit of both," Jack replied slowly. He turned to give Ianto a wry grin. "You really do know how to ask the hard questions, you know."

"I try." He thought Ianto might have smiled in return, but it was too dark to tell from simply glancing at his profile as he continued to gaze at the city. After another long silence, Ianto tried once more. "Did you want to talk about it? About him?"

Jack's head whipped around. "Who?"

He was met with a look of sympathetic understanding and gentle reproach. "I read your report. Captain Jack Harkness, RAF, 133rd Squadron."

"Ah, him." Jack nodded, then frowned. "Why are you reading my personal reports?"

Ianto laughed through his nose. "Because you didn't come out of your office all day and say more than two words to anyone. Because Tosh wouldn't tell me anything but was obviously hiding something. Because I can listen, even up here, in the freezing cold."

Jack shook his head. "It's complicated."

"Well," said Ianto, leaning back on his hands. "You obviously didn't meet your past self, otherwise the temporal paradoxes involved in that particular meeting probably would have caused the universe to implode by now. So you met a different man named Captain Jack Harkness, and I'm thinking that's no coincidence. I could find out more on my own if I dig deep enough…but Jack, if you want to talk about it, I'm sitting right here."

Jack blew out a long breath and finally decided to throw caution to the wind. He had avoided Ianto all day for this very reason, the confession always on the tip of his tongue that he just couldn't seem to muster the confidence to actually _confess_. He had come up to the roof to clear his head, but his thoughts were still jumbled and confused…which meant maybe he just needed to say it. All of it—get it out in the open so he wasn't keeping so many secrets. He hated the secrets and hated even more the feeling that keeping them from Ianto stirred in him. Ianto had come all the way up there to find him, after all—to listen and offer support. So Jack took a deep breath and started.

"Captain Jack Harkness died in the line of duty on January 21st, 1941. I needed an identity at the time, and so I borrowed his. It stuck." He paused, waiting for a reaction. Ianto simply nodded.

"So Jack Harkness isn't your real name."

"It's how I think of myself now."

Ianto turned and smiled at him. "It fits you. So you've been Jack Harkness ever since 1941, then?"

Jack hedged a bit before answering. "Actually, quite a bit longer. I told you it was complicated." He waited for Ianto to ask him just how long, but maybe the Welshman didn't want to know, because he asked something completely different instead.

"Do you remember your real name?"

Jack actually felt his mouth fall open a bit. "Well…yes, yes, I do. But I don't think about it much. I'm not that person anymore." Which was so true he really hoped Ianto believed him. He had changed so much since he had come to Earth, taken the Captain's name, met the Doctor…sometimes he still didn't recognize himself, even after so long.

"So you met the real Jack Harkness at the dance hall, just before he died?" Ianto continued after a moment, and Jack nodded.

"He was there with his squadron—it was a Kiss the Boys Goodbye dance." He shook his head as his own memories of the time—both times he'd lived it—blurred with recent memories of the dance hall. "They were all so damn scared, and he was trying so hard to keep them in line, keep them strong and brave."

"And you were tempted to tell him what was going to happen," Ianto guessed, far too clever as usual. "Knowing his fate and having met him—you wanted to change the future."

"I wanted to," Jack whispered. "But I didn't. I couldn't." He shook his head and swiped at his eyes, refusing to let any more tears fall. He wasn't sure why it had affected him so much, when he'd known the man for so short a period of time. He had felt an intense connection with him, yes, yet it was something the real Jack Harkness had said, something he had done, that had got Jack thinking seriously about something else entirely.

He cleared his throat. "I told him to enjoy his last night before they went out, to go to his girlfriend and be with her. But he didn't. He stayed. With me."

"Ah." Ianto nodded, as if he understood…and Jack suspected the Welshman probably did, somehow. Ianto knew him better than anyone, and more importantly, Ianto accepted him, secrets and all. Feeling more comfortable and even more confident, Jack continued.

"He asked me to dance, right there in front of everyone, and then the Rift opened. I…I kissed him before we left…and it was amazing." He shook his head at the wonder of it: he, Jack Harkness, had kissed the real Jack Harkness, the man whose identity he had assumed without a second thought, and it had been incredible. And yet even as he thought back on it, other feelings burst through the memories and almost paralyzed him, because Ianto was sitting right there, right now…

"Jack?" asked Ianto. He had, at some point during Jack's story, put a bit more distance between them, and Jack almost felt his heart plummet, that Ianto was pulling away when he needed him to stay close.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you telling me this?" Before Jack could even open his mouth to reply, Ianto carried on. "Were we really that wrong to open the Rift and bring you back? Would you have rather stayed with him?"

Jack almost choked on his answer, because Ianto had it so wrong. "No, that's not it at all." He turned toward Ianto, to try to take back some of that distance, to be closer to the man again, and was thankful to catch Ianto sigh in relief. "Jack—the real Jack—he asked me if I had anyone back home, and I said no. I told him there was no one."

Ianto nodded and gave him a questioning look; he obviously had no idea where Jack was going with it.

"But when I stepped back through the Rift, my first thought wasn't about him, the man I'd left behind, it was about someone else. And when I walked through the door to the Hub, I knew that I had lied to him. I did have someone to come home to."

Ianto's was looking pointedly away now, his mouth set in a tight line, but Jack continued.

"Ever since I kissed him, I've been thinking about how I really wanted to kiss this other person, only like I said, it's complicated. I think it goes both ways, but—"

"Jack, stop," Ianto said. He brushed at invisible dirt on his trousers, refusing to meet Jack's gaze as he stood, leaving the stopwatch on the roof between them. "I think you might be talking to the wrong person about this after all. I'm sorry, you should probably talk to—"

Jack stood with him, grabbing Ianto's hand before he could finish. "Ianto, don't go. I'm not talking to the wrong person. I'm talking to the right one—the only one."

Ianto stared at him, his eyes softening, a mix of confusion and fear and longing passing over his face. He shook his head as if denying it, but Jack stepped closer to stop him from leaving.

"It was you," he said. "You're the one I should have told him was waiting for me at home, because you were. I know you tried to stop Owen from opening the Rift, but you were here. And when I saw you again, I knew you were the one I wanted to be with, now, in this time."

Ianto glanced down at their clasped hands, closed his eyes before glancing up again to meet Jack's gaze. He didn't move, didn't speak, but something in his bearing shifted subtly, so that Jack took another step closer, somehow knowing this time Ianto wouldn't pull away or turn his head or clear his throat.

Jack took a breath and brought his hands up to Ianto's face, cupping his cheeks and pulling him in for that first kiss that he had been thinking about ever since he had stepped back into this time, yet had really wanted even longer than that. It immediately felt _good_, but more than that, it felt _right_ in a way that almost took his breath away.

He sensed Ianto tense at first, then almost instantly relax as he felt it too, the _rightness_ of it, and he returned the kiss with growing passion, his hands coming up to wrap around Jack's shoulders, their very touch sending shivers through Jack that he felt mirrored in the other man. He let his arms slip down to Ianto's waist to pull him closer, so that they were flush against each other, and the kiss deepened until they were both breathless, tongues tangled and hands roaming and fingers running through hair, a small moan escaping someone's lips—

And then Ianto pulled away, stepping back with a look of shock mixed with longing clear on his face even in the dark. He touched his lips, staring at Jack with wide-eyes, while Jack watched him warily, thinking that was one of the best first kisses he'd had in a long time, and he hoped, god he hoped, that Ianto wasn't about to turn his back and leave.

"Jesus, Jack," Ianto finally murmured, running a hand through his hair. "What the hell was that?"

Jack felt his heart constrict at the thought that he'd made a huge misjudgment, because he couldn't stand the idea of losing his friendship with Ianto even if the other man didn't want more. He tried to cover his nervousness and sudden crushing fear with bluster and hoped it wasn't obvious. "Pretty damn good if you ask me."

Ianto gave a nervous laugh. "Obviously. Besides that."

Jack grinned, his nerves daring to settle with those three simple words. He stepped forward and pulled the other man close once more, running a hand across Ianto's face, over the slight scar on his temple. "It was me, doing something I should have done weeks if not months ago."

"It would be on the roof," Ianto murmured. Jack raised an eyebrow.

"You followed me up here," he pointed out.

"I wanted to be sure you weren't brooding," Ianto said, gazing into his eyes. "I didn't expect…this."

"Do you regret it?" Jack asked, and to his relief, Ianto did not hesitate to answer.

"No," he said, lips quirking at the corners. "It's probably about damn time."

Jack growled and kissed him again, and once more they fumbled almost desperately at one another, as if the weeks and months of tension between them were finally bursting forth right there on the roof. This time Jack stopped the kiss, breathlessly stepping back and taking Ianto's hand with a grin.

"Believe it or not, there are better places for this sort of thing."

Ianto raised an eyebrow as he let his gaze roam across the city, glowing in the night and lighting his face with shadow. "I don't know, this was a damn good start if you ask me."

"It definitely was," Jack laughed. "But it doesn't have to be the end." He cocked his head toward the door that led back into the building.

"I should certainly hope not," Ianto replied.

"Then your place or mine?"

"Everyone's gone home and the Hub is closer."

"Then let's go. Don't forget the stopwatch," Jack added with a grin, and Ianto turned back, grabbing it from the rooftop.

"Twenty-eight minutes and thirty seconds," he said as he returned. "Exactly how long it took for me to win that first fifty quid in your office. Now that can't be a coincidence."

"Probably not," said Jack. "Not at Torchwood, anyway."

Ianto took Jack's hand again and pulled him toward the stairwell. "Speaking of which, I believe you once said something on the boardwalk about another list?"

"It's on my desk, ready and waiting," Jack threw back as they hurried down the stairs like two carefree lovers. Ianto grinned up at him, and his eyes had a mischievous glint.

"Good place to start, the desk."

Jack laughed, an almost giddy laugh that was rare for him given the life he'd led. Yet he felt like he'd taken a rare risk with Ianto; it had paid off and that, more than anything, was a relief. There was no awkward distance now that he had revealed his feelings and desire. They still shared their friendship and banter, but more importantly, the deep attraction between them was mutual, and something deeper had passed between them, bringing them even closer.

It had taken a man from the past to show him that Jack's future had been right before him all along.

* * *

Author's Note

There you go! Yay! On the roof!

I have to admit that this scene was one of the first that popped into my head, the idea that coming back to the present after his intense experience with the real Jack Harkness showed Jack what he really wanted. I guess it's my attempt to treat Ianto with a bit more respect, since it bugged me to think that he and Jack were already involved, yet when the Captain asked Jack about it, he said he had no one.

This story will conclude in the next chapter and I apologize in advance as you all must know it won't be pretty. But I will post it before I go on holiday in a few days, so that I can scribble new ideas in my notebook on the airplane.

Thanks again for reading - reviews are much appreciated now that we've come so far together!


	16. 36:00:00

_36:00:00_

They'd had just thirty-six hours together.

Thirty-six hours of mostly hell, butthirty-six hours that were still somehow better than all the days and months before. They had hurried back to the Hub, walking close together and only stopping once for Jack to press him against the door to the tourist office as Ianto almost desperately fumbled for the key. Tripping into the secret passageway, they had barely made it to Jack's office fully clothed, bits of clothing coming off as they stumbled and kissed and touched and explored.

It was so new, so exciting, so _right._

Ianto spent the night in the Hub with Jack, a long, unforgettable night filled with an almost desperate passion as they first came together, and later with surprising gentleness as they later took their time to discover one another, and even nervous but comfortable laughter, particularly when the stopwatch came out.

And then time had splintered around them as they had tried desperately to save the world once more. Aliens spacecraft, Weevils, Black Death. Even murderous Romans.

They had shared looks and glances and stolen touches when they could. Ianto had tried to talk to Jack after Owen had left, but Jack had been far too angry to really talk, and Ianto had been too rattled after seeing his supposedly dead girlfriend in the vaults. _'Open the Rift'_, Lisa had said. Except that was what had caused the problem in the first place. He couldn't betray Jack for her, not again…could he? After what had happened between them?

But then Rhys Williams had died right before their eyes, and there had been blood everywhere.

With one look, Ianto betrayed everything he and Jack had built over the past few months, everything they had shared the night before. With one_ 'No'_ he left Jack's side to open the Rift with the others, consequences be damned. It was the hardest thing he'd ever done, harder even than keeping Lisa secret in the basement and lying about it every day, but he had made his choice: the Rift had to be opened to take back all it had done wrong to them, to the world.

But now Jack was dead on the ground, a bullet in his head, eyes staring lifelessly at nothing. Ianto sat beside him in shock, unable to process what Owen had just done to their leader. Some part of him knew he should do something—help Jack, kill Owen—but all he could do was sit and watch as the Gwen pressed the final key, the alarms sounded, and the Rift opened.

Which was when Jack gasped and came back to life.

"What have you done?"

What had they done? They had opened the Rift again. For Gwen and Rhys, for Owen and Toshiko. For Lisa. Ianto had once again betrayed Jack and helped open the Rift, even after he'd shot Owen to stop the doctor from doing the very same thing, even after he had seen the consequences. Now there was no doubt in his mind the world was going to hell once more: the Hub began to collapse as Gwen scrambled to help Jack.

"Ianto," Jack gasped, but Ianto just pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and shushed him, mindlessly grabbing Jack's greatcoat on the way out of the Hub. They stumbled onto the street as the world fell around them.

"Jack," Ianto said, trying to hold the man up as they stumbled. "I'm sorry, I—"

"Keep moving!" Owen shouted, and Gwen said something that was lost as Jack's head lolled, and Ianto tried desperately to keep him standing as Gwen stormed forward. He looked up to see what she was facing.

Bilis Manger. Of course.

"Ianto, what's going on?" Jack whispered.

"Owen shot you," Ianto murmured back, watching Gwen confront Manger. "We opened the Rift to send everything back, but it's released some sort of beast."

"All hail Abaddon, the Great Devourer!" cried Bilis Manger, his eyes alight with manic worship.

Jack swore under his breath.

He reached for Ianto's hand and squeezed tight. "I'm sorry about what I said," he whispered, his voice still weak. "I don't even know why I said those things."

"Because we didn't listen to you, and you were right, and I'm so, so sorry," Ianto replied, his own voice cracking. "But Jack, what the hell happened to you? He shot you in the forehead—Jesus, I didn't think he'd do it, I didn't even try to stop him, it happened so fast—"

"Not now," Jack said, shaking his head. In front of them, Bilis Manger disappeared and Gwen whirled on them, her eyes wild and desperate.

"Tell me what to do, Jack," she demanded.

Jack was still clinging to him, but he glanced around the team before settling back on Gwen. "Just you…get me to an open space."

Ianto felt Jack squeeze his hand once more before stumbling off with Gwen. And he felt his heart almost stop in his chest as he watched them, somehow knowing that Jack intended to sacrifice himself and might not come back this time, wishing he could be there and wondering why he took Gwen and what the hell the rest of them should do next…

When Gwen brought him back, Jack was dead. Time reverted to normal, but Jack was still gone. Dead.

She told them something Ianto had suspected for a while, deep down: that Jack was not only long-lived but actually couldn't die…yet there he was, cold as ice, lips blue as night, tucked into the morgue drawer that Gwen wouldn't let them shut, wouldn't leave for days. Dead. Again.

At first Ianto mourned with her, until he began to resent her constant presence in the morgue when he was the one who should be sitting there, as she had sat by Rhys in the autopsy bay. He waited for her to leave before visiting Jack by himself. When she returned, he quickly left, retreating to Jack's office, gazing at the table where they had first played poker, at the chairs where they had shared so many drinks, at the greatcoat, hanging on its hook, still smelling of him…

It wasn't right. After all that time, after all they'd been through, they'd had thirty-six hours together, and now Jack was dead and he wasn't coming back this time. Gwen still sat by his side, and Tosh went down there yet again to convince her to come up while Ianto tried to busy himself with the never-ending cleanup of the Hub. He'd already spent countless hours covering up as much as he could about anything that hadn't been reset by the Rift, and the countless more hours covering for Jack as the calls continued to come in and the paperwork refused to do itself.

Ianto was exhausted, confused, and miserable. He'd lost his boss, his friend, and something more he couldn't quite define and now would not even have the chance to explore. He wasn't quite sure how to move on from something that he had barely had thirty-six hours to experience. It wasn't fair—but then, that was Torchwood.

And then Gwen appeared, holding Jack's hand and leading him back into the Hub.

Tosh dropped what she was working on and ran over to him, exclaiming in overjoyed shock. Ianto hurried over next, staring at the man before him: pale and tired looking, but _alive,_ somehow, someway, _alive._ It was so unbelievable he almost forgot to breathe.

Yet even as he tried to process it, the guilt came crashing down: he had played some part in this. He should have tried to stop them from opening the Rift, just as he had tried to stop Owen the first time, but he hadn't. He had given them the protocol codes and passwords and watched as Owen had shot Jack point blank in the head. He had betrayed Jack—again. How could they possibly recover what they had just discovered?

So as much as he wanted to run to Jack and throw his arms around him and touch him and kiss him and reassure himself that Jack was really, truly _alive_, he took a deep breath and held out his hand instead, awkward and unsure. Jack pulled him into a hug—god, he was _warm_ again—and then to his shock and wonder, kissed him right there, in front of everyone.

Ianto didn't know if it would be all right now, but he would do everything he could to make it right. For Jack—for them.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, their foreheads touching. "I'm so, so sorry, Jack."

"I know," said Jack, kissing him once more. "I'm sorry, too."

He looked like he was going to say more, but Owen appeared, and when Ianto saw the look on the doctor's face, he felt his heart go out to him in spite of everything he had done, and when Jack enveloped Owen in an embrace and the doctor broke down, it was all Ianto could do to keep him own composure from breaking.

Gwen had been right: Jack had returned, and everything would be all right.

The team gathered around him, the questions they'd had for days pouring out in waves, until Jack finally waved his hand and stopped them. Ianto stayed back, wanting Jack to himself but hoping there would be time later.

"I'm sorry," he said, and he really did sound apologetic. "But I'm still recovering here and could really use more space and less questions."

Everyone stepped back, and Jack nodded. "Thank you. Now, has everything gone back to normal? Did time reset itself?"

They all looked to Tosh, who had been monitoring the Rift constantly since Jack had gone to face Abaddon. "Everything reverted to the way it was before time started splintering. The whole world's gone back to normal."

Jack sighed and offered them a tired-looking smile. "Good. Then it looks like we just need to get everything back to normal around here."

Owen snorted. "As normal as Torchwood gets, anyway."

"That's how I like it," Jack laughed. "Seriously, keep cleaning up and let me know what you need." He paused and gave Ianto an inquiring look. "I'm guessing you've been running the place for the last few days."

Ianto shrugged. "They don't know it and probably won't ever appreciate it, but yes. Everything's in as good of order as you could expect, I think. You'll find quite a bit on your desk." He wasn't sure why he had put it on Jack's desk, when Jack had been dead in the morgue; it just seemed like the right thing to do, his one last hope that Jack would return to look it all over.

"Thank you," Jack murmured, obviously thinking the same thing. He met Ianto's eyes and smiled. "Come to my office and catch me up on what's been happening. Ten minutes." He turned and headed toward his office, but Ianto caught the last minute wink Jack tossed over his shoulder; he ducked his head and smiled as he thought, '_And counting'_.

Ten minutes later, he walked into Jack's office only to find himself practically assaulted the moment he crossed the threshold. Jack shut the door behind him and pressed him up against the wall, lips crashing to his and hands roaming down his sides, strangled words trying to come from his mouth and failing because he was too busy kissing him and Ianto just went with it, too relieved to care at that moment if anyone saw them or heard them: Jack was _alive._

To his surprise, it was finally Jack who ended the kiss and pulled him into an embrace. "I thought that might have been it, this time," he whispered in Ianto's ear, and to Ianto's surprise, Jack was shaking. He stepped back and led Jack to the nearby couch.

"This time?" he asked, sitting down with him, holding their hands together on Jack's knee while Jack fell back against the couch. "Do you make it a habit of getting killed and coming back to life?"

Jack gave him a look that was a cross between sheepish and resigned. "I've been doing it for a long time, yes."

"So you really can't die," Ianto said blankly. He hadn't quite believed it when Gwen had said it and still couldn't wrap his head around it now, even after seeing Jack walk into the Hub, after kissing his warm lips...

"Haven't yet," Jack replied softly, closing his eyes. "But I thought that was it that time."

Ianto just stared at him, unable to reply. What could he say? He knew Jack had lived longer than any of them, knew Jack healed unusually fast from his wounds. This, though, was an even bigger secret: Jack was immortal. Ianto wasn't sure what that meant—for him, for Jack, for them, and his stomach curled into knots even as his heart rejoiced that Jack _had _survived, _had_ come back. He would worry about the rest later.

There was a squeeze to his hand. "You okay?" asked Jack, and Ianto shook off his stunned bewilderment and nodded.

"I should be asking you that. How are you feeling?" he asked, and he brushed a hand across Jack's cheek, over his jaw. The other man sighed in contentment. "I really thought we'd lost you," Ianto murmured.

"You did," Jack replied. "But I come back, every time. And I feel fine, just tired." He paused and yawned as if to reinforce his statement. "I could really use some coffee." A wink told Ianto that Jack was still the same old Jack.

"The coffee machine was damaged when the Rift was opened," he said. "I'll head out for some in a few minutes. Jack, I have to tell you—"

Jack put a finger to Ianto's lips. "You already did, and it's all right. You did what you had to do…" He trailed off at the look on Ianto's face. "What is it?"

"I don't think you understand, Jack," Ianto said, unable to meet his gaze. "Why we did it. We all saw visions, someone we loved—begging us for help, asking us to open the Rift, or in Rhys's case, dying on the autopsy table. I…I saw…" He shook his head, unable to continue.

"Who did you see?" Jack asked softly. There was nothing but understanding in his voice yet nothing but guilt in Ianto's chest.

"I saw Lisa down in the vaults. She said I had to open the Rift, that it was the only way. Tosh saw her mother, Owen saw Diane." He finally met Jack's eyes. "We were manipulated, I know that now, but Jack, I'm so sorry—"

Jack pulled him close, and Ianto wrapped his arms around the man's neck, marveling at how easy it was to do so. What should have felt uncomfortable for so many reasons instead felt completely natural after their night together, even after what had happened since then. "I understand. I said horrible things to you, to all of you, once you'd made your decision, so I'm not without blame."

Ianto frowned and pulled back to look into Jack's eyes. "But you were manipulated too. We were tricked into betraying you, which was why you said those things. Bilis Manger wanted that to happen, the discord between us. I'd say he wanted you out of the way, somehow. He planned it all from the beginning."

Jack nodded slowly. "You're probably right. Do we know what happened to him?"

"We've been looking for three days, but we've found no sign of him," Ianto replied, passing a hand over his face. It was frustrating, knowing the truth and knowing the man was still out there, still a threat. Yet they would keep searching, and they would find him.

"What else have you been up to?" Jack asked, sitting up a bit straighter. They reverted to Torchwood roles, and Ianto reported on the state of the Hub and what they had been doing since Jack had gone to face Abaddon.

When he was done, Jack changed back, just like that, laying a hand on Ianto's leg and leaning forward to kiss him once more. Ianto was amazed at how comfortable it was, how normal it felt to shift back and forth. He didn't want anyone to walk in on them now, but he was glad that their working relationship wasn't affected by whatever other relationship they had just started.

"Thank you," Jack finally said. "For keeping things running smoothly. I know it must have been hard."

"Just doing my job, sir," Ianto replied, lips quirking at the tips. Jack narrowed his eyes at him, growled, and without warning pinned him down to the couch.

"I told you a long time ago to call me Jack," he whispered as he began to trail kisses down Ianto's neck. "Because I am definitely not your boss right now."

Ianto didn't ask what he was, because he didn't know either; instead, he lifted Jack's head to his, kissed him long and deep until he felt Jack relax and sigh above him, and then stopped with a grin.

"You still want me to make you coffee, though, don't you?"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Well….yes?" he replied, not sure of the answer. It made Ianto laugh for the first time in days.

"Get off me so I can go get some then. We could all probably use it. I'll ask Tosh to go with me."

Jack kissed him one last time and then stood, offering a hand to help him up. "And I'll catch up on that lovely pile of papers you've left on my desk."

"Enjoy them," Ianto said, winking as he turned. "It should all be order."

"Ianto!" Jack called just before he left the office. "It's all good, yeah? Between us?"

Ianto smiled. "It's good, Jack. Really good."

Jack grinned back, and Ianto felt his heart almost skip a beat, a bit like it did when he'd first started seeing Lisa. He shook his head at the comparison before he went out to collect drink orders and ask Tosh to join him; to his surprise, Owen invited himself along as well. Ianto had hoped for a nice walk alone with Tosh. He knew the doctor was still angry at him, and he hadn't quite made up his mind about Owen yet either in spite of his obvious remorse and Jack's forgiveness. Ianto had shot Owen, but Owen had killed Jack.

Torchwood was really messed up sometimes.

But Owen joined them, and Ianto tried to ignore the slightly uncomfortable tingling he felt between his shoulder blades, like the doctor was studying him from behind and planning how to make his move—and smirking, most likely. Ianto knew exactly why; he held back a sigh, just waiting for it as they crossed the Plass.

"So what was that back there, teaboy?" Owen finally asked as they walked, earning a wide-eyed look of warning from Tosh. Ianto hid a small smile, but let his eyes roll. He knew it had been brewing: Owen was not the sort to ignore things.

"Don't know what you mean," he returned, still aware of Tosh's eyes on them.

"Come on, Jack about snogged your face off back there," Owen said. "None of the rest of us got a welcome back snog, why you?"

"You did shoot him," Ianto pointed out.

"Yeah, but…" Owen was at a rare loss for words.

"But what?" Ianto prompted innocently. He didn't look at him, kept his eyes ahead and his face impassive, but that must have been a mistake, because he felt Owen stop beside him and glanced over his shoulder to find the man almost leering at him.

"You got your shag, didn't you? Your pathetic wet dream came true."

Ianto whirled and had Owen's jacket in his hands immediately. "I already told you, it's not like that."

"Right, Jack needs you. To what, suck him off?"

"Owen!" Tosh exclaimed, trying to step between them.

But it was all right: something in Owen's words, something about the look on his face, actually made Ianto grin. For some reason, Owen was trying hard to hurt him, but Ianto knew the doctor was wrong. Jack did need him, in more ways than one. He shoved Owen away, hard.

"If you weren't already injured, I'd shoot you in the other shoulder," he said, his voice far more casual than he felt.

"I'd like to see you try," Owen said, straightening his collar. Ianto grabbed him again, pulled him forward, and shoved his gun under the doctor's coat, angling himself so that no one could see.

"No, you don't," he whispered. "Jack may have forgiven you for shooting him, but that doesn't mean I have. Especially if you keep acting like the arsehole you are."

He stepped away, easily slipping his gun back behind him. Owen stared at him before he laughed. "You've got balls, I'll give you that, Jonesy. And if Jack's happy with them, then that's between the two of you."

Ianto ignored the remark and turned to Toshiko, trying not to shake too much. "Sorry about that. Walk with me?"

They walked slightly ahead of Owen, but there was an uncomfortable silence between them now. Finally Ianto sighed and gave her a sideways smile. "It's all right, you know. I wouldn't really shoot him again."

She returned it with a half-smile. "I know. But is it true?" she asked softly. "What he said? About you and Jack?"

Ianto sighed, because he really hadn't thought that the rest of the team would find out so soon. He hardly knew what was going on himself, let alone how to answer Tosh. He didn't want to lie, but he didn't want to share everything, not now, when it was still so new. So he held his elbow out, she linked arms with him, and he finally nodded.

"I wouldn't call it what Owen did," he replied.

"What would you call it?" she asked. Her face showed nothing but support, and he smiled at her, knowing he could be honest.

"I don't know, exactly," he said softly. "But I'll let you know when I do, yeah?"

"All right," she said, giving him a squeeze. "And Ianto?"

"Yes?"

"Just be careful. Don't get hurt."

He laughed through his nose, not sure what to say. It was Jack. He trusted Jack, he respected Jack, he liked Jack. Sure, a million things could go wrong, but then, they were close friends, and Ianto was finally ready to take the risk of getting hurt again, if it meant something more might happen. He wasn't sure what he wanted—who was, when starting a new relationship?—but the relief he felt that Jack had come back told him he wanted something.

They walked the rest of the way together, arms still linked, Owen still trailing behind. By the time they began their trek back, they were all walking together and even joking a bit. Owen seemed as contrite as Owen ever got, and Ianto was just feeling so good in that moment that he almost forgot what had happened between them earlier. They hurried back to the Hub, anxious to see the others and continue their private celebration of Jack's return.

Yet as soon as they walked into the Hub, Ianto sensed something was wrong. There were papers blown around and something just felt _different_. Gwen was standing still, gazing around the stations as if she sensed it too. And when she asked about Jack, Ianto felt his heart plummet even as his mind starting whirring.

"He's gone. Something's taken Jack."

Ianto set down the coffee, ignoring whatever hot liquid splashed over his hand. He hurried to where Jack kept his odd little machine with the hand in it: it was gone. And then he ran to the nearest computer and pulled up the CCTV footage.

"Nothing took him," he said as he stared at the screen. "He's left."

They stood around him asking questions, but Ianto was too busy, too uneasy to hear them. He followed Jack through the CCTV footage as he left the Hub and dashed across the Plass, yelling at something off screen. Yet as he switched camera feeds, Ianto saw it, and he closed his eyes.

A blue police box.

"Jack's gone," he said, his voice dull with—what? Shock? Disappointment? Hurt? Anger?

"What do you mean, he's gone?" asked Owen.

"He's left," said Ianto, leaning back in his chair and letting his eyes close briefly. "He's left the planet, the year, all of it—he's gone."

Gone. The word just echoed blankly in his brain. Jack had left them—left _him_. He had just asked Ianto if everything was good, and then he had turned around and ran off without a word. Ianto wanted to punch in the computer screen, but forced himself to take a deep breath instead as he left the others and hurried to Jack's office.

The greatcoat was missing; nothing else was touched. There was no note on the desk, no message on the computer. Ianto kicked at a chair and swore under his breath, hand running raggedly through his hair as his heart raced. How could this happen? Now? They'd just saved the world and Jack had come back from the dead, only to leave again?

"How do you know he's left?" called Owen. "How? And with who?"

"He's gone off with his doctor," Ianto replied wearily as he returned to where the others were still standing in front of the computer.

"His doctor?" asked Gwen, looking confused as she gestured at the computer screen. "How do you know that? He just runs onto the Plass and disappears—like something took him."

Ianto rewound the footage and pointed out the blue box. "See that?" he asked, and all three of them shook their heads. He sighed. "Concentrate. There is a blue police box right there on the Plass. It has perception filter so that no one really notices it, like the one on the lift."

He watched them squint and try to see it, until finally they all nodded or gasped.

"But how did you see it?" asked Tosh.

"I was Torchwood One, remember? This doctor was the reason the entire Institute was founded. I was trained to recognize things like chameleon circuits, perception filters, and psychic paper." He sighed again. "That's the Doctor's ship, and Jack's gone with him. He could be anywhere, anytime."

"But why?" asked Gwen. "Why would he leave us?"

Ianto was silent, because that was the same question he had been asking himself since the moment he'd seen the footage. Gwen, however, seemed, determined to work it out.

"He said he needed the right kind of doctor. To fix him. Does he mean about not dying?"

Ianto shrugged. "I don't know, he's not talked about it much. I know he's traveled with the Doctor. Torchwood One suspected he was once one of the Doctor's companions, which I think is one reason they always wanted him so close."

"But who is this doctor, and why did Torchwood One know so much about him?"

Ianto moved away and sat down on the lumpy sofa, memories of Torchwood One making the situation even more difficult. "It's a long story. The important thing is, Jack has left. He could be back tomorrow, he could be back next year." Ianto swallowed hard, forcing himself to admit one more truth. "Or he might never come back. He's not from our planet, not from our time. He might have left for good. We need to decide what to do without him."

They all stared at him, until Owen shook his head. "Christ, Ianto. You slept with the man, and you're acting like he's just gone for a walk in the park."

Gwen glanced up in wide-eyed surprise, which Ianto pointedly ignored. He glared at Owen instead. "I'm just doing my job, which is to keep this place running, with or without any one of us."

Tosh came and sat down next to him, taking his hand. "I'm so sorry, Ianto," she murmured, and he smiled gratefully at her for her support.

"Well, what the hell do we do then?" asked Owen, crossing his arms mulishly over his chest.

Ianto glanced at Gwen, who was just staring at the ground in shock; he could see the anger building in her, that Jack had left them, left _her,_ after finally coming back to life. He turned to Tosh, who looked more hurt and lost than anything, and remembered her file, and how Jack had saved her from U.N.I.T. Finally he shrugged and raised his eyes to Owen once more. "I don't know."

"That's just bloody great," Owen muttered, throwing his hands up. "Well, I'm not going to sit around. I'm going to look for him."

"You won't find him," Ianto said softly, though it pained him to say it.

"We have to do something!" Owen exclaimed, and Ianto was frankly surprised at the man's desperate vehemence. He would not have thought Owen so attached to their leader; he had shot Jack after all, albeit under excruciating circumstances.

Tosh looked ready to cry, Gwen looked hurt and angry, and Owen was glaring at Ianto as if he had all the answers. He didn't: he had nothing. Inside he was just as angry and upset as they were, yet he had one thing they did not. He didn't even know where it had come from, only that as he stood to face them, it filled him with an unexpected calm that would somehow have to get him through this.

"We wait," he told them. "We trust that he'll come back to us, or at the very least, try to contact us. We have faith in him, when we didn't before."

They all hung their heads at that last, though Ianto didn't mean it as an accusation. He sighed, feeling even worse for bringing them down when he had meant to give them hope.

"And in the meantime, teaboy?" asked Owen, anger tempered now by unspoken grief.

"We keep doing what we do," Ianto replied. Gwen glanced up sharply with bright eyes. It was something Jack had probably said to them all at their lowest points, and it was hard to use words that were so _Jack,_ but when Gwen nodded, and Tosh gave him a crooked smile, and even Owen blew out a breath in acknowledgement, he knew it was the right thing to say.

"I'm going to delete the CCTV footage so U.N.I.T. doesn't start asking questions. I'll take care of all the paperwork and contacts, just as I've been doing for the last few days." He'd lie and forge Jack's signature if he needed to and hope it was all enough. "And we keep an eye out for the ship, the Doctor, for Jack, for anything." They nodded, but each of them was still locked in their own confusing miasma of thoughts to really hear him.

Heading back toward Jack's office, Ianto hesitated before stepping inside. He wanted to offer one last word of hope to the rest of the team, but he had nothing left. Glancing around the office, he suddenly wasn't sure of anything he had said. Jack had left them to travel the universe: why would he come back to this cramped office, this dirty Hub, this damaged team of misfits?

He wanted to think that maybe, just maybe, after all they had shared, Jack would come back for him, someday. But Ianto could hardly define his own feelings for Jack; why then would Jack come back for him? He wasn't even sure if he wanted Jack to come back because of how he felt about the man, or because he wanted the chance to actually _discover_ how he felt about Jack Harkness.

As he sat down at Jack's desk to start going through the papers and deleting the footage, a slip of paper caught his eye. It was Jack's handwriting, and Ianto felt his breath stop in his throat as he read it.

_New List_

_1. Dinner_

_2. Movie (when's the new Bond movie out?)_

_3. Picnic on the roof_

_4. The Welsh __Opera (does he like opera?)_

_5. Live Rugby match _

_6. T__ie shopping (looks good in red)_

_7. Penarth_

_8. _

_9._

_10._

Jack's list. A new list, an unfinished list. Ianto knew instinctively that the list was for them, but it was not what he had expected. It was so…normal. Ordinary. Even romantic. Ianto felt tears prick at his eyes, that Jack was gone and they hadn't even had a chance to cross one thing off the list, a simple dinner.

Brushing at his eyes, he told himself that Jack was all right, that he would come back. He wouldn't have made a list like that if he had left forever. Jack might be chasing after his doctor, across time and space, but the list in Ianto's hand told him that Jack wanted something else just as much: a normal life, or as normal as Torchwood allowed.

He tucked the list into his jacket pocket, vowing to keep it until Jack returned. It would be his connection to Jack, to the night they had shared and the future that he wanted to believe was still possible. Maybe he would even add to it and finish the ones Jack hadn't had a chance to complete. With a smile, Ianto nodded to himself. By the time Jack came back to him, it would be quite a list indeed.

* * *

Author's Notes:

The end.

Some dialogue was taken from the episode "End of Days." No copyright infringement intended.

I really apologize for how much longer this took me, but it was a huge chapter, as you can see. I think I covered it all, though! I hope you enjoyed the story in spite of the sad ending. And yet, it's not that sad, when you think about it. It's hopeful. My personal head canon would see Ianto much more upset and angry about Jack leaving so abruptly, but in the context of this story, that wouldn't work.

And in case you are wondering...yes, there will likely be a short sequel to wrap things up for them. Someday. They are already chattering in my head.

Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, I really appreciate all the support!


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